The Saddest Little Valentine
by notbang
Summary: The biggest game of cat and mouse just got bigger. The stakes are higher - lives are on the line and someone else is after Jarod... or so it seems. Who are they, and can they be worse than the Center?
1. Chapter I: Sapphire Ransom

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1**The Saddest Little Valentine**

**Summary: **The biggest game of cat and mouse just got bigger. The stakes are higher - lives are on the line this time around, and someone else is after Jarod... or so it seems. Who are they, and can they be worse than the Center?

**Rating: **PG13

**Chronology:** Post-IotH. Mr Parker comes into it later, which I know is a little off course, but it is explained. Oh yeah and I haven't seen the new series since I don't have cable TV so forgive me any other canon mistakes.

**Genre:** Suspense/Mystery/Angst... and a little bit of romance, though short lived.

**Disclaimer: **Are you the author? I am today. Except I'm only pretending...

**Chapter I - Sapphire Ransom**

_Her eyes, cold and distant, resembled the colour of blue frosting. So many people feared them - feared the icy, biting glare. Not many understood how those young eyes were a reflection of a anguished past._

_Life had not been kind to those eyes, or the heart that lay behind them. The world was a cruel place, and hers had taken its toll on her. Facades had been forged, barriers built. Her losses had a steady hold on her, and her coldness was her only defense. _

_Her work was her life, though not by choice. She remained behind bars, a creature caged, held captive by an unimaginable power. A prisoner to the legacy of her past.  _

_          - Jarod Heart, The Saddest Little Valentine, chapter one. _

Sapphire blue eyes flashed in the gloom of the shadowy corridor, drinking in the sight with aloof disinterest. Pink lips parted slightly, releasing a cloud of smoke. With a final once over, their owner recommenced the journey to the office that lay ahead, the only sound being the click of black heels as they connected with the floor.

She was tired, but she wasn't about to show it. With a barely audible sigh, she headed straight to her desk, glancing over the paperwork that had been placed there. She shifted the top sheet in order to see the one beneath it.

'Miss Parker,' addressed a calm voice. She didn't even flinch at the unexpected presence of its owner as he stepped out of the shadows.

'Sydney,' she said shortly, tipping her head in acknowledgment, but not looking up. 

The files seemed strangely unimportant to her once her gaze fell on a yellow package.

'Jarod,' she said, her lips pursing.

The name floated from her mouth with ease, the familiar sound of it formed with barely a thought. She didn't need to think. After dealing with him day in, day out for the majority of her life... 

The package was definitely from him. Despite its simpleness, she could somehow sense these things. Things to do with Jarod usually attracted her attention without fail... they had an aura that made her skin crawl. Then again, while it was her attention they held, she usually had to depend on Sydney to decipher their meaning. Contemplating what was going on in the pretender's mind was his job... hers was much more difficult.

At the mere thought of it all, her lip curled back in distaste. _What an exciting life I lead_, she thought bitterly, drawing in from her cigarette.

'Are you going to open it?' Sydney asked with amusement, moving closer to the desk.

Her lips parted slightly and her blue eyes travelled up to his.

'I'm waiting for it to beg and roll over,' she said dryly, as her black nailed fingers closed over the object in question.

'Think it will fetch? Jarod, I mean, no pun intended...' Broots said hesitantly, and this time Miss Parker did falter, albeit slightly.

'What is this, sleep over in my office?' she asked with exasperation before dropping down in her chair, package in hand.

She opened the package quickly, sliding out its contents. It contained numerous objects, the first of which annoyed her immensely.

The book was Jarod's infamous novel _The Saddest Little Valentine_, a book that haunted her every time she laid eyes on it. The main reason being the picture on the front that bore a striking resemblance to herself. This was no coincidence; Jarod's skills extended into a great talent in the arts and it had been his intention. The book, at least so he said, was about her.  

'That _damn_ book,' she hissed, picking it up. 

'You mean the Valentines one? That Jarod -'

'The very same,' she interrupted, shoving it into her draw without another glance.

'You know, Miss Parker, I'm sure Jarod included that for a reason...' Sydney said hesitatingly.

'Relax, Sid, I don't need your psychic powers to understand this one,' she said coolly. 'Rat boy likes to think he has a sense of humour.' Noticing the look they both gave her, she rolled her eyes. 'I've read it, OK? Trust me on this one.'

_Trust. There was that word again._

She shifted her attention back to the remaining contents of the package; a tube of sunscreen, a pair of sunglasses and a small porcelain angel. It seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn't put a finger on it.

'A note?' Sydney asked, picking up the sun lotion.

Taking another drag of her cigarette, she reached into the package and withdrew a small envelope with an easy flick of her wrist. Seemingly impatient, took out the note inside and shook it open.

It had an address on it.

'Are you ready?' she asked them, her fist slowly closing over the paper and reducing it to a small ball.

'For what?' Broots asked, looking up from the sunglasses in confusion.

'For what we're always meant to be ready for,' she said with distaste, squishing her cigarette into the ashtray to extinguish it. 'The game of chasey that never ends. And, as usual, we're "it".'

* * *

'Mr Deluca -'

'Please, call me Jarod.'

'Jarod, there's a young lady here to see you.'

'Oh? Did she leave a name?'

'No, sorry. She's quite impatient, though. Dark hair, blue eyes. Shall I let her through?'

Jarod sighed, tensing in his chair. The young blonde secretary in front of him waited for his answer.

'Send her through,' he said eventually, leaning back in his chair. 'Unarmed, and alone.'

* * *

'Miss Parker, where exactly are we headed?' Broots asked.

She opened the door to her office and stalked out. Sydney followed at an ordinary pace, while Broots attempted to catch her up.

'I hope you packed that sunscreen, Broots. We're headed to Florida.'

'Florida? But Miss Parker, the helicopter -'

'Is not here. I know,' she interrupted with a sadistic smile. Her blue eyes flashed. 'The jet is taking us to Florida. And hopefully, to Jarod.'

'What about the angel?' Sydney asked. 'Parker, I don't think -'

'Miss Parker!'

With a furious look, she spun on her heel to face Mr Lyle.

'_What_ do you want now?'

'Raines wants to see you in his office,' he smirked.

'Ugh!' she said, throwing up her hands. Annoyed, she took another puff of her cigarette.

'Smoking kills, Parker.'

A second later, her gun was pressed to his chest.

'And so do I. Now get out of my way.'

* * *

When she stepped into his office, Jarod was uncharacteristically tense. His only hope was the fact that she should be unarmed.

He looked up, opened his mouth to speak and stopped.

'Oh,' he said, letting out a sigh of relief. 

She arched an eyebrow at him.

'Is there a problem?'

'No,' he said slowly. 'It's just... you look a lot like an old friend of mine.'

While the young woman standing in front of him was definitely not Miss Parker, she was about the closest thing Jarod had seen to her since Catherine Parker herself.

It was impossible to distinguish whether she was sixteen or twenty two. But she had the same intense blue eyes, the same hair, though a little longer. And, there it was, the same sadistic smile.

'I'd hardly call her a friend, Jarod,' the girl said with amusement. 'But you do go back a long way.'

'Do I know you?' he asked eventually, running a hand through his hair.

'The name's Parker,' she replied, cracking a smile. 'Kiya Parker.'

'Parker...' Jarod said, looking at her with interest.

'As you've already mentioned, I do look a lot like my cousin. I suppose I had you scared a minute out there. I figured you'd thought it was her, since they took my gun.'

He raised an eyebrow.

'Can I help you... Kiya?'

She smiled.

'No, but I can help you,' she said, putting her hands on his desk and leaning forward.

'Is that so? You're not going to turn me in?'

'To the Center?' Kiya asked with shock. 'Goodness, no. I'd rather eat someone's spleen than send them there.'

'Thanks for the image.'

'No one deserves to go there. It's a horrible place,' she said softly.

Her eyes locked his, and he realised immediately that she had been there. And seen... things.

'How do you know about the Center?' he asked, standing.

'Catherine was shot there,' Kiya sighed, straightening up. 'Last year, years after my aunt was murdered, but on the same day, my mother was killed also. I've been alone ever since. Searching. For answers.'

'What about your father?'

Kiya's eyes flashed dangerously, but Jarod could see the anguish. It was something constantly evident in Miss Parker's eyes.

'I never knew my father,' she said quietly. 'My mother was the only family I had, and when I was sixteen, I lost her too. We have a lot in common, Mr... Deluca,' she finished, eyes flickering from his for a moment to read the sign on his desk. 'What are we now? A lawyer?'

'Solicitor,' Jarod corrected. 'So... you said your mother was killed on April thirteenth?'

'_Murdered. My mother was on the run from the Center. They wanted her dead. They also wanted me, but so far I've managed to avoid them.'_

'You have the Center after you?' he asked, eyebrows raised. 

'It's a long story,' she warned.

Jarod glanced from his watch to the article on his desk.

'I have all afternoon. Take a seat.'

* * * 

'Miss Parker,' Raines greeted in a raspy voice as she stepped into his office.

'Mr Raines, such a pleasure to see you again,' she said sarcastically. 'And... Dr Jekyll? Mr Hyde?'

The man she was speaking to glared at her.

'Mr Anderson,' he said.

'What is this? I need to be out of here, we've had a lead on Jarod -'

'This is about Jarod, Parker,' Raines replied. 'So sit down.'

She did so slowly, and without taking her eyes off him.

'Things have changed,' he said, standing to walk slowly around the room as he spoke, keeping his back to her.

'The Center needs Jarod. Things with the Triumvirate are getting difficult... if we don't have Jarod within the next few months, he will be killed,' Raines finished.

'But the Center wants Jarod alive,' Anderson said.

'Preferably,' she supplied, expelling another plume of smoke.

'Funny it should be you to mention that, Miss Parker,' Raines said with a crooked smile. 'Because you are another that we want alive... at least... preferably.'

She cocked her head and her eyes narrowed.

'It's your freedom in exchange for Jarod's, you already know. But you will bring him back, Miss Parker, or the Center will terminate your existence. Permanently.'

'With any luck I'll survive,' she said dryly. 'Pretty much everyone returns from the dead around here anyway.'

'We're not joking, Miss Parker,' Raines said slowly. 

She opened her mouth and blew another cloud of smoke into his face in response before turning away.

'And to insure there are no... mishaps,' Mr Anderson said with a cold smile, 'It's not just your life on the line here. How would you feel if your two accomplices just... disappeared?'

She pursed her lips, thinking grimly of Debbie.

This didn't surprise her. The Center was willing to do practically anything to get what it wanted. _Anything it takes_, she thought.

'And if that happens? How are you going to get Jarod?'

'That's where I come in,' supplied a voice.

'Mr Lyle,' she said with sarcastic enthusiasm. 'What a surprise.'

'We meet again, sis,' he replied with a wave of his hand and one of his trademark sleazy smiles. She rolled her eyes.

'How could you do this?'

'We have no choice,' he said shortly, his back to her again.

'Right,' she said, standing. 

'My life or boy wonder's.'

* * *

'If I talk, will you listen?'

'Of course,' Jarod smiled. 'I was a shrink once.'

'And you will believe me?' Kiya asked, one eyebrow raised.

'Try me.'

'I was a prodigy at the Center,' she said slowly. 'A pretender in training.'

Now, Jarod was very curious.

'You're a pretender?'

'Not quite as good as yourself,' Kiya smiled. 'I wasn't there long enough.'

'You escaped?'

'I'll get to it. The Center got a hold of me straight away, when I was born. They held my mother there, also, but I never got to see her. When I was fifteen, she said we'd been released. They just let us go, but I don't know why. Because three months later and they were after us again. They killed my mother last year.'

'If you left the Center two years ago, then that means you were there while I was,' Jarod muttered, standing to peek out of his blinds.

'Expecting someone?' Kiya asked with a dry smile.

'Yes, your cousin,' Jarod said grimly.

'Hot date?' she grinned.

'Hardly,' he sighed. 'Her idea of spending time alone would be with me locked in a cell.'

'Kinky,' Kiya laughed. 'It's sad. I know you two were friends. Once.'

'That was a long time ago,' Jarod said. 'Things have changed.'

'Things don't have to change,' Kiya said. 'People make them change. You of all people should know about change.'

'You're just like her.'

'Who?'

'Your cousin. You remind me of how she used to be.'

'Don't compare me to anyone in that Center,' Kiya said with distaste. 

'Some people are held there against their will. It's not their fault,' Jarod pointed out. 'Miss Parker was brought up to hate me. They taught her to distrust me. They made her how she is.'

'I'd like to meet her someday,' she sighed. 'But I'm not going back there.'

'I'm sorry, Kiya, but you still haven't really told me why you're here. I'd like to help you, if there is anything I can do.'

'What I want to know is what my connections are to the people inside of the Center. You see, my name's Kiya Parker, but my mother wasn't a Parker. She was Catherine Parker's sister. But Catherine was -'

'Only a Parker by marriage,' Jarod finished.

'Exactly.'

* * *

'What is this place _coming_ to?' she hissed, eyes flashing dangerously. 'My own biological father would have me killed just to get back a pretender that doesn't want to be caught.'

'Miss Parker -'

'I need a drink,' she concluded. 'A nice big one.'

'Miss Parker,' Sydney repeated, louder. 'You need to calm down.'

'Thanks for the tip, Sid,' she replied sarcastically. 'It's at the bottom of my list right now.'

'Angel,' muttered a voice.

She spun around, her eyes stopping on the vents.

'Why, hello, Cousin It. Come to harass me, too?' 

'Angel... stop crying,' Angelo sighed, resting his head against the bars.

She exchanged a glance with Sydney before stepping closer to the vent.

'What did you just say?'

'Crying... so sad, so sad... Angel, stop crying...'

'I'm not crying, I'm not sad, and don't call me -'

She stopped. Her eyes rested on the porcelain angel that Jarod had sent, laying on her desk.

'Angel,' she murmured, picking it up. 'I know it, Sid, I've seen it before. I know I have. I just don't know where.'

She thought about it a moment.

'Get him out here, Sid. I want to hear what he has to say.'

'Of course. And Parker?'

'Yes, Sid?' she said, forcing a smile, eyebrows raised.

'You need to be careful. The Center will do as they said.'

With that Sydney left, leaving her to ponder her own thoughts.

* * *

'I have not met any other pretenders, since I was at the Center,' Jarod said, smiling. 'I'd like to help you find out who your father is.'

'Why?' Kiya asked, forcing a laugh and looking down at her hands. 'I don't know why I came. Why should you even believe me, yet alone want to help me?'

'I do believe you, because you know things others don't,' he replied, looking her in the eyes.

'I can see it in your eyes. And I want to help you because everyone deserves to know who their parents are.'

'I know all about you, Jarod. I'd seen you at the Center, and I heard you'd escaped. I've been following you, in the papers... I probably sound like a stalker or something. I just thought if I could find you, you'd understand.'

'I do,' he sighed. 'I do. How old are you, anyway? Seventeen, right?'

She smiled wryly.

'How ever old I need to be,' she replied, looking towards the window.

Jarod watched her a moment, thinking hard, forehead creased.

'Listen, Kiya. I can help you, but I can't hang around. I'll be here a week, max.'

'I'm a drifter too, Jarod. I have the Center after me as well.'

'Which is why we can't be seen meeting like this again. It's too easy. If one of us were to get caught, so would the other. It's dangerous.'

'It's dangerous for me already,' Kiya sighed. 'And I hate it. At least you have... some purpose to your life. You can help people. Me? I'm constantly on the run. Alone. I can't make friends. It's hard. But I haven't seen them for ages, I just move to keep them off my trail...'

'I have run-ins with the Center once a week on average, it's too dangerous for you,' Jarod argued. 'If you are a pretender like you say, which I believe, they'll take you back any chance they get. You may have thrown them for now, but get seen with me and they won't let you get away without a fight. I'm not the best person to be making friends with.'

'You need me,' Kiya shot, standing.

'I don't need you.'

'Yes you do. You may be the experienced pretender, Jarod, but I'm the one who knows about the world. About life. You missed out on all that, at the Center. You missed out on your childhood and I'm the closest thing you've got to it.'

'How so?' he asked darkly, his gaze locking hers.

She swallowed and turned away.

'You're a genius,' she said slowly. 'Amazing. But you have a big flaw. There's a lot of things you don't know about the real world. You ask questions that could get you into trouble. Halloween was the best,' she said with a laugh. 'The look on the boy's face...'

'How do you know about that?' he asked suspiciously.

'Miss Parker isn't the only one that's been trying to track you down. Just like you're not the only person pretending to be someone they're not,' she said in a low tone. 'Just let me do this, please. I'll watch my back.'

'We'll discuss this later. Right now, I have other things to do.'

Jarod stood and pulled on his jacket, then paused and took out his phone.

'What?' snapped the voice on the other end.

'Miss Parker, in a good mood as always.'

'Oh, great. You're just the person I want to speak to right now.'

'Nice day?' he asked, amused.

'Just peachy. What do you want?'

'I was expecting you today. What on earth was holding you back?'

'Things came up,' she said shortly. 'I'm not particularly in the mood for games right now.'

'I'd best be leaving you then. I'd just called to tell you I met someone most interesting today.'

'Who?'

'Oh, never mind. You're not in the mood for games right now.'

He hung up the phone, giving a short laugh.

'Well? Are you coming?' he asked, turning to Kiya.

'I suppose. Where...?'

'I'll explain it on the way,' he replied as they exited his office.

'You called her?' Kiya asked, eyebrow raised. 'And you were talking about me?'

'Top marks,' Jarod smiled, slipping the phone into his pocket. 'Well done.'

'Why?'

'Oh, it's just a little game we like to play.'

* * *

'Miss Parker,' Broots said once she stopped back inside.

'Jarod?' Sydney asked.

She nodded.

'So.. did... did he find anything?' she asked, gesturing to Angelo, adjusting herself and sliding back into her cool manner.

'See for yourself.'

Angelo was sitting over in a dark corner, leaning against the wall and holding something to his chest. It was the porcelain angel.

'What is it, monkey boy?' she murmured, crouching next to him.

'Sad, angel... crying. Changing mind. Have to... change mind.'

'Who? Who has to change their mind?'

'Angel... sad.'

'Ugh!' she exclaimed, throwing her head back. 'Has he said anything else?'

'Actually, he gave us a file code. It's for a DSA,' Broots said.

'And? Have you got this DSA?'

'Technically speaking, no. The connections between the operating system and the codes for that particular division don't comply...'

'Does anybody around here speak coherent English?' she wondered out loud.

'I can get the file, Miss Parker,' Broots said, his eyes flickering to hers. 'But it might take awhile.'

'Then get on it!'

'Of c-course, Miss Parker.'

With a hesitant backwards glance, he made for the door.

'Could you get a move on?'

Once he had left, she walked over to her chair and sat down, massaging her temples.

'What did Jarod want?' Sydney asked.

'To annoy me, as usual.'

'Jarod would only call for a reason, Parker. Something is bothering you.'

'It's not Jarod that's bothering me, it's the little pow wow I had with my _dear friends at the Center not long ago. But Jarod did mention something... he said he'd met somebody interesting.'_

'Who?'

'Didn't say. He told me that I wasn't in the mood for games and not to worry about it. Ugh!'

'Yes, Jarod does have a habit of the early termination of phone calls.'

'He said he'd been expecting us today,' she informed him. 'Pity the Funny Farm had to call a meeting and stop us getting there.' 

'Do you honestly think you would have caught him?'

'Implying something, Sid?'

'If Jarod was expecting you, I find it unlikely that you would have caught him,' he said, a slight smile on his lips. 'If we're ever going to get him, it will have to be when he doesn't expect it.'

After a moment, she sighed and nodded.

'What do you think it means?' she asked, pressing a cigarette to her lips and nodding towards Angelo.

'I don't know... but he knows something.'

'Of course he does,' she said with distaste. 'He always knows something. But he can't just come out and say it, can he?'

She was stressing again, she knew. She hated this. She knew it wasn't her. Deep down, she regretted everything. How coldly she spoke. How inhumane she came across. It wasn't how she knew she could be. How her mother would have been. She had turned away from Angelo so that no one could see the pity in her eyes. Just like she had turned away from the pain in Jarod's eyes so long ago. 

Her whole life, all she ever did was turn away.

'Angel... sad.'

'Yes, Angelo,' she said with a sigh. 'Angel... sad.'

* * *

'You're game,' Kiya mused.

'How do you figure that?'

'You were expecting my cousin to come, but casually decide to go out walking around the streets.'

'Nice thinking, but not quite. First, she's not coming. She told me.'

'And you believe her?'

'Of course. Second, the streets are probably the safest place to be. Crowded. Lot's of people. Witnesses.'

'Right,' she sighed, lifting her sunglasses. 'So where exactly are we going?'

'We're going to join a cab company. Can you drive?'

'I don't have my license, but -'

'I wasn't asking if you had a license,' Jarod interrupted, smiling. 'I was asking if you could drive.'

Kiya laughed.

'Yeah. I can drive, Mr...'

'Fallens. Jarod Fallens.'

'Sounds like a plan.'

'Uh-huh.'

'But Jarod? What exactly am I going to be doing while you're driving cabs?'

'You, Miss.... Kiya,' he corrected, seeing that it wasn't going to work calling her by her last name, 'will be my assistant.'

'Taxi drivers have assistants?' she asked dubiously.

'You're now my daughter. As a project for school, you travel with me. Job study, or something. Got it?'

'Yeah. So I'll be like... a backseat observer?'

'Make it front seat,' Jarod answered, giving her a smile.

'Right.'

A silence settled in, and Jarod encouraged it. He needed to get his head around his thoughts. This girl, claiming she was a pretender, had just shown up out of nowhere, relaying information that most people didn't know. He had been expecting something of the sort, after an interesting discovery he had made after hunting through Center memos, but she hadn't been quite what he had imagined.

'I still don't quite get this, _thing, with Miss Parker.'_

'Not many people do,' he answered, not particularly wanting to start a new conversation, especially one about his fiery huntress in high heels.

'If she hates her job, like you say, why doesn't she leave?'

'You should know, Kiya, that people don't just "leave" the Center. The only way to truly escape it is death. Running away doesn't give you new comfort when they're a step behind you everywhere you go.'

'She doesn't know I exist.'

'And if she ever finds out, she probably won't acknowledge said existence.'

'What do you mean?'

'I mean that your cousin may not be who you think she is,' he answered. 'She has concern for only the most important things in her life. She doesn't venture outside of her circle often.'

'But you like forcing her to,' Kiya commented.

Jarod didn't reply. They kept walking quickly across the town square.

'I wish I'd known her mother. She sounded nice.'

'She was,' Jarod said. 

'Did you know her?'

'Vaguely. I know what she did. Now in here,' he said, pushing open a door.

'J-Dad,' she laughed, correcting herself. 'This is an icecream parlor.'

'I know. What flavour?'

She laughed again, shaking her head.

'Vanilla.'

'A substance obtained from the pods of a tropical climbing orchid or produced artificially, used as a flavoring and in the manufacture of cosmetics. An interesting flavour, but it's my favourite too.'

'Do you have to analyze everything?' Kiya asked.

'Of course,' Jarod smiled. 'I've learned a lot thanks to icecream.'

* * *

'Take it _away_,' she said through gritted teeth.

'But Miss Parker -'

'Broots? Get rid of it,' she said icily, lighting up another cigarette.

_Don't let it get to you, Parker_, she thought. _It's only Jarod. He wants__ to get under your skin. Don't let him rile you up._

She shot a final death glare at the cardboard cut out. A life size Jarod, dressed as a doctor, with a speech bubble saying "stress kills". Again, she didn't need Sydney to get the message.

'Jarod's right, you know,' Sydney informed her.

'Nasty habit of his.'

'His first priority has always been the welfare of others. Maybe you should take his advice and relax, Parker.'

Her glare turned on him, the blue eyes glowering.

'I don't need anyone's advice. Not yours, and sure as hell not his. If you don't mind, I have somewhere else to be,' she said coldly, walking out.

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**Aloha. **

**How did you like the first chapter of The Saddest Little Valentine? I'd like to know. I'm good at listening, and understanding... you see, I was a shrink once ;)**

**Coming in the next chapter, _I Smell A Rat:_**

**Miss Parker receives an anonymous tip as to Jarod's whereabouts**

**Jarod becomes involved in a hit and run mystery **

**Jarod and Kiya find themselves in a sticky situation**

**A few interesting secrets are discovered; and, of course... **

**We get to read a bit more of Jarod's book. :)**

**This story does have a point, by the way... it'll just take a few chapters for the plot to develop.**

**Now, this is my first Pretender fic, so anyone reading this most likely has never read any of my work, so I'll tell you a bit about myself.**

*** I love the Pretender. It rocks, and I'm mad they took it off the TV.**

*** I'm a J/MP fan... but I also think that the majority of J/MP stuff out there is written unconvincingly and that Miss Parker is generally out of character. I acknowledge that it is difficult to write a convincing relationship between the pair, which is why my mention of it is brief. That doesn't mean there is no romance, it just means it's not very serious. I'm working on it.**

*** Miss Parker is my favourite character, followed by ****Sydney****. I think they're both great :) Jarod's cool, too, of course, and so is Broots... but I just dig the whole "huntress in high heels" thing.**

*** Miss Parker is also my brother's favourite character, but for different reasons...  **

*** I've seen Pretender 2001 and **Island****** of the Haunted, but none of the series after that, since they axed it over here. It is on cable, but we don't have it. So there's some stuff I might get wrong since I haven't seen the new series. Forgive me.**

***I will be bringing out another Pretender fic soon.**

**I can see the review count in generally low compared to the high ones I am used to in my other fandom, so I'm not expecting much. Maybe five reviews, and I'll update? We'll see how it goes.**

**I'd like to stick around, but I can't...**

**Beware the PTB,**

**SezZie**

**P.S. Review, please... or I'll set Miss Parker on you. ;) **

**Don't worry, she has a gun, but she hardly ever uses it. It's more a question of how she's going to insult you, rather then how she's going to maim you.**

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	2. Chapter II: I Smell A Rat

The Saddest Little Valentine  
  
Summary: The biggest game of cat and mouse just got bigger. The stakes are higher - lives are on the line this time around, and someone else is after Jarod... or so it seems. Who are they, and can they be worse than the Centre?  
  
Rating: PG13  
  
Chronology: Post-IotH. (Thanks to Ginger6 for clearing the rest of that up for me... we're a little misinformed over here.)  
  
Genre: Suspense/Mystery/Angst... and a little bit of romance, though short lived.  
  
Disclaimer: Are you the author? I am today. Except I'm only pretending...  
  
Note: Nothing major... I know I said in the last chapter that there was going to be a hit and run investigation, and anonymous tips and stuff... just to warn you that it's a little different to what I said it would be. Change of plans for the plot, because I just re-watched the movies to refresh my memory and I got a few new ideas. :)  
  
Chapter II - I Smell A Rat  
  
As a little girl, she had always delighted in spending time with her mother. These moments were few and far between, due to the time consuming job both her parents held. Perhaps the rarity of these mother and daughter interactions only made them more appealing.  
  
She was protected from the darkness of the world she lived in by the innocence only a child can possess. But before long, she was swept up into a hurricane of damage and despair that not even she could turn away from.  
  
- Jarod Heart, The Saddest Little Valentine, chapter two.  
  
The same blue eyes that had been so intense and silencing the day before we sore, bloodshot, and unfocused. Yet, despite this, they were still full of critique - albeit critique aimed at something different than usual - but critique nonetheless.  
  
It was directed at none other than herself. The discerning glance was reflected right back into the glass of the mirror for her to see.  
  
Pure, unadulterated self-repent.  
  
A hand came up to wipe her mouth before returning to its position, mirroring its twin, on the side of the sink. Her head fell down; eyes in the basin and dark, damp tendrils of hair cascading down to frame her face.  
  
It was the eve of a new year, and what had she accomplished?  
  
It had been an... interesting year, to say the least. She couldn't deny it. Things had happened that had definitely put a spin on her insight. Secrets had been unearthed. New ones had been created. People had disappeared. Strangers had arrived. Mistakes had been made.  
  
Others had been blamed.  
  
One soothing cigarette after the Carthis ideal and she was hooked all over again. While they offered short term comfort, they were definitely not good for her in the long run, especially after taking her ulcer into consideration. It was the same with the drinking, but she was too damn depressed to care any more.  
  
She was nowhere closer to finding Jarod than she had been six years ago. Every time she thought she had him, she'd blink and he'd be gone. Something inside of her, something that had been buried for so long, was now struggling to come to the surface. She was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, subconsciously, she didn't want to catch him. After all, there had been so many opportunities, so many times she could have injured him, impeded him, yet her gun had remained idol in her hands.  
  
This was a nonsensical contemplation. Of course she wanted Jarod back. Of course she wouldn't mind putting a bullet through his heart. Hell, with him out of the way she could get on with her life. The lab rat had a more inviting definition for the word freedom than she did these days.  
  
She hated that Centre, that core of her existence, with every fibre of her being. She resented what they had done, detested what they still did, and feared what they were yet to do.  
  
'You tried to stop it,' she muttered, fingers gliding fleetingly over the photo frame that contained a picture of a woman that could have been her twin. 'I wish I had the courage you did. But I'm too scared to try.'  
  
A tear slid down her cheek, and she, out of habit, brushed it away. Discarded it, as a sign of weakness. She couldn't afford to show weakness. Even if she felt it, she had to hide it... it was the only way she knew, and for the most part it got her through.  
  
Of course, there were always exceptions. Despite her efforts, cracks had appeared in the wall she had so solidly built around her heart.  
  
Her father, regardless of his many lies and deceptions, somehow always managed to worm his way back into her affections. He was probably the only person she could allow herself to think of in such away. He was at the head of the awful mess surrounding her life, yet, up until his recent disappearance, would have been the last person she expected to leave her defenseless.  
  
She didn't think he was dead. The unspoken law she had made and lived by was that unless their body had been found, they weren't dead. On that, it was sometimes likely that if their bodies were found, they weren't dead. Anything was possible with the Centre.  
  
They would stop at nothing to get what they wanted. Even if it meant staging their own demise, or swiping their records. It was something she had learned very early in her life. If something, or someone, stood in their way, they would be removed. Permanently.  
  
Whatever it takes.  
  
* * *  
  
Not even twenty four hours with her, and Jarod already knew a lot about Kiya Parker.  
  
For one thing, she was very bold and, from what he could deduce, pretentious. Her mouth got away from her at the best of times; there was no doubt that she had inherited the Parker tongue.  
  
Secondly, along with being extremely assertive and confident, she had immense powers of manipulation. She charmed the socks off almost anyone she spoke too, succeeding in getting what she wanted for the majority of the time.  
  
Jarod had decided that perhaps she wasn't a bad ally to have.  
  
But, as with all good geniuses, she had her bad points. She was very flighty, which had the tendency to annoy him a little. Her apparent superficiality bothered him the most; for while he understood more than anyone that things were not always what they seemed, she was, above all her cleverness, shallow. It hid what she was truly thinking so well that he found it difficult to see inside her mind, something he did without thought to anyone he met.  
  
Jarod liked to know what people were thinking, or, at least, how they were inclined to think. When living a life like his own, it was somewhat essential. Every step was dangerous, putting him on the verge of being discovered, found out.  
  
Amongst her seemingly consistent changes of mood, he had also learned that Kiya loved the colour black - as did he - and hated lasagne, which he had to admit he had never tasted. She was particularly skilled with languages, and had what she called extra sensory perception.  
  
'I'm an observer, rather than a doer. I see and hear things others don't. And somehow, I just know, sometimes,' she sighed, lounging idly on the blue couch in the middle of his apartment. 'I just... sense things.' 'It what we're trained to do,' Jarod informed her as he scanned over an article he had pasted into one of his little red notebooks. 'Get inside people's minds. But I agree, you do seem to have a talent for it. Like you said, you're an observer. I'm a doer.' 'It's not that I don't do things. I'm just not into that get-out-there-and- make-myself-known thing. I watch from the shadows and do what I can from there, rather than jumping into this whole pretender act. I feel safer when I no nobody's watching. I don't have the skills you do, and I wouldn't last long before I'd slip up.' 'Everyone slips up. The important thing is who notices your slip ups,' he said grimly. 'But with time, you'll learn. Now, I've got somewhere to be. And you?' 'Out of sight, out of mind. I know,' she sighed, rolling her eyes. 'Promise you won't come snooping around?' 'Promise,' she said, raising her eyebrows in a tired manner. 'Dad.'  
  
Jarod laughed.  
  
'We're going to get along just fine.'  
  
* * *  
  
'Miss Parker,' Sydney said, placing a hand on her shoulder as she stepped past him out of the elevator.  
  
Her usual, aloof demeanor had returned; the slight vulnerability in her eyes the only remainder of her mood earlier that morning.  
  
She turned, one perfect brow raised questioningly.  
  
Sydney sighed, detecting the look in her eyes but making no comment. He instead gestured down the hall to his office.  
  
'I think you might want to come see Angelo.'  
  
Angelo had in his hand a piece of white chalk, and was frenziedly sketching something on the blackboard that resembled a cherub. He came to an abrupt halt when Miss Parker entered the room.  
  
'Miss Parker in danger,' he said. 'Going to try to kill... Miss Parker.'  
  
She stopped and looked at Sydney, who was watching Angelo with a creased forehead.  
  
'Angelo, who is going to try to kill Miss Parker?' 'The ones... you thought you could trust,' the empath said, looking directly at her. 'And that list is so long,' she said sarcastically, glancing at Sydney. She was slightly unnerved, but hid it well. 'Who is going to try to kill Miss Parker?' Sydney pressed again.  
  
Angelo moved awkwardly towards the desk where the porcelain angel lay. He picked it up, tracing the concaves of its face.  
  
'Angel... sad. Jarod... confused. Miss Parker... in danger.' 'Who is this Angel?' Sydney asked. 'I don't know,' Parker said slowly, thoroughly annoyed. 'Listen, Freud. You get monkey boy to speak. I need to go find my moron.'  
  
Sydney nodded in reply, and she slipped out of her office, resisting the urge to light up another cigarette.  
  
'Broots,' she said coolly, stepping into her office. He looked up from his computer. 'Oh, Miss Parker... hello.' 'Hello,' she replied, drawing out the word with a steely glint in her eye.  
  
Knowing exactly what she was interested in, Broots turned the computer he had been working with to face her.  
  
'I traced the DSA. It's from a couple of months ago.' 'What?' she asked with interest, and eyebrow arching. 'That means...' 'That they're still making them,' Broots finished, lowering his voice. 'But that isn't the half of it. The reason I couldn't find it was because it had been taken. Three other people have accessed it in the past few weeks. You'll never guess who.' 'Raines?' 'Yes, but that's not all. The other two were someone called Mr Anderson, and...' He paused and leaned forward, keeping his voice low. 'Sydney.'  
  
* * *  
  
'Jarod Fallens,' Jarod said genially, extending his hand to the secretary in front of him. 'Welcome to the Cab Company,' she smiled in return, shaking it. 'You'll be required to check in here before starting each shift. I presume you've already been notified of your hours?' 'Yes,' he nodded. 'Right. The staff room is down the hall to the right. In the event that changes need to be made to schedules, shifts are always displayed on the board in there. If you need anything else, just ask.' 'I will. Thank you.'  
  
Jarod followed the secretary's instructions to the staff room. Upon finding it empty, he moved in for a closer inspection, studying shifts and other notices on the board.  
  
'You must be Jarod,' said a voice. 'Mark Field.' 'Nice to meet you,' Jarod smiled, shaking the man's extended hand. 'Lucy told me you'd just come in. So where was it you transferred from?' 'Oregon,' Jarod said, giving the first answer that came to his head. 'Right. Oregon,' Mark said cheerfully, taking out a Styrofoam cup and holding it beneath the coffee machine. 'How are you liking Florida, then?' 'A lot, thank you. I've been here in the past and enjoyed myself.' 'You travel much?' 'You could say I have itchy feet,' Jarod replied, dodging the question habitually.  
  
Mark moved away from the coffee machine and Jarod filled up a cup for himself, joining the other taxi driver at the table.  
  
'You must have known Davy Reynolds.' The man regarded Jarod for a moment before replying. 'Yep. Damn good driver he was, too. What you'd call genuinely responsible. Not the type you'd pick for a drink driver.' 'What happened that night?' Jarod asked as Mark opened the daily paper and began to leaf through it. He looked up at the question. 'Reynolds was doing a night shift. Was picking up two young ladies to take them home when he lost control of the wheel. Swerved and hit a pedestrian. Police found his alcohol level at almost twice the limit. The pedestrian died in hospital a few hours later and Reynolds was charged with manslaughter.'  
  
'Who was she, anyway?' 'Excuse me?' 'That woman back there. With those men in black suits. She is what you're in such a hurry to get away from, right?' 'Unfortunately, yes.' 'So who was she? Obsessed ex girlfriend?' 'Not quite. Just someone I'd like to keep as much distance from as possible.' 'You ain't in no trouble with the police, are you?' 'No. I know this looks compromising, but I'm not a runaway criminal, I promise you.' 'It's alright. You look like you're in a spot of trouble, and this is my good deed for today.' 'Thank you. I owe you. A lot.' 'It's nothing. Where you headed from here?' 'Anywhere. Somewhere not here. Maybe I'll get a job as a cab driver.' 'Well, Jarod. If you ever need some pointers, just look me up. Davy Reynolds.' 'I will. Thank you.'  
  
'Did you know him?' 'Excuse me?' 'Reynolds. Did you know him?' Mark asked, dipping a biscuit into his coffee. 'Yes,' Jarod sighed. 'I owe him a favour.' Mark held the biscuit in his cup a moment too long and it crumbled into the drink. 'Darn,' he cursed. He got up and tipped the remaining coffee down the drain. 'Well, I'd best be off, anyway. Shift starts in five.' 'It was nice meeting you.' 'Same to you. See you around.'  
  
Once Mark had left, Jarod got up and returned to analysing the shifts. He had taken over Davy's, which meant the next day he would be working the Thursday night shift that had resulted in the young driver's jail sentence.  
  
'Jarod, your daughter's here to see you.'  
  
Jarod looked up in slight confusion to see the secretary, Lucy, standing in the doorway. And behind her was... Kiya.  
  
He gave a troubled sigh, frowning as Lucy left and Kiya stepped into the room.  
  
'I thought I told you to stay inside?' 'Ooh, a coffee machine,' she said with interest, ignoring him. 'Kiya...' 'Chill, Dad,' she grinned. She was chewing a piece of gum while she looked around. 'What are you doing here?' 'Looking for you. Did you know that the air conditioner doesn't work in your apartment?' 'Well, we won't be there for long. Did you come here for a reason other than to annoy me?' She regarded him lazily for a moment, her thick dark lashes slightly lowered. 'Nope. I think annoying you was pretty much the idea,' she said eventually, shrugging. 'So when do you start?' Jarod took her shoulders, steering her out of the staff room and down the hall. He waved at Lucy as they passed and left the building. 'Tomorrow,' he said in reply to her question. 'Where are we going?' 'Back to my apartment.' 'But I just came from there.'  
  
Jarod took a deep breath. Whether it was a common trait of teenagers to be easily bored, or Kiya merely required constant stimulation, he didn't know; but it sure seemed to him like the only thing she feared was tediousness. For the most part, it entertained him.  
  
'Well, we're going back, so you can be there again,' he said, his mouth twitching with amusement. 'You need to go shopping. There's no food.' 'No,' he agreed. 'There isn't.' 'I need to go shopping.' He glanced sideways at her. 'I don't have anything except the clothes I'm wearing,' she told him. 'I had to leave my last place unexpectedly.' Jarod understood that completely. 'Where are you staying?' 'With you.' 'What? Since when?' he asked, eyebrows shooting up. 'I don't have anywhere to stay. I told you, nothing but the clothes I'm wearing.' 'And what if I said no?' She fluttered her eyelashes and gave him her most innocent look. 'Fine. But this isn't a permanent arrangement,' he warned. 'That's cool. Thank you!' she said, surprising him by hugging him. 'And tomorrow, we can start trying to find out who my father is.'  
  
Jarod sighed, wondering what he had gotten himself into.  
  
* * *  
  
'This is Sydney.' 'Did you get the DSA?' 'Jarod, I don't understand. This DSA is from -'  
  
Sydney stopped mid sentence as Miss Parker strode into his office, a red nailed index finger pressing down on the intercom. He slowly lowered the receiver.  
  
'Sorry to break up the party,' she said brusquely. 'Miss Parker?' 'Jarod?' she asked in return, raising an eyebrow to Sydney. 'Can I help you?' Sydney asked, scratching his head, fighting a look of amusement. 'Yes, Sid, I think you can. I want to know what you two are up to. And why you have the DSA that Angelo was talking about.' 'You just can't stand being left out, can you, Miss Parker?' Jarod's voice asked wryly from the speaker. 'I'd just like to know why someone who is supposed to be helping catch you seems to be assisting you.' 'Jarod asked for the DSA before Angelo even mentioned it,' Sydney said, holding her gaze as she paced in front of his desk. 'What's on it?' 'It's a surveillance record of SL-27,' Jarod explained. 'From three months ago.' 'Go on,' she said slowly. 'Why do you want it?' 'It's a need to know, Miss Parker. You don't.'  
  
Sydney had to bite back a smile at the look on Miss Parker's face.  
  
'Tell me why you want it, goddammit!' 'I can't,' Jarod said calmly. 'But I'm willing to do a trade. You give me the DSA, and I'll give you something that will be of value to you.' 'Like?' she said, spitting out the word like venom. 'Like the box that can only be unlocked by the key that you found in your father's office.'  
  
At these words, Parker froze.  
  
Almost immediately after returning from Carthis, she had sifted through her father's things, trying to salvage anything of interest or importance before possible secrets of her past were permanently destroyed. She hadn't found much, save a bronze key that had failed to fit any of the locks she had tried.  
  
'Where did you get it?' she asked, turning slowly to catch Sydney's eye. She could almost imagine the look of satisfaction on Jarod's face for having successfully captured her attention. 'Let's just say that you're not the only one who went searching for clues before they disappeared completely. It's no use to me if I can't open it, though, so it's yours if you get me the DSA.' She was fully aware that Jarod could, if he really wanted to, open the box. However, had he opened the box already, he would have told her about anything concerning her. The fact that he hadn't assured her that he had no knowledge of what it contained. She also knew that if she made the deal, Jarod would honour it.  
  
'Fine,' she said, loathing to admit that her curiosity was getting the better of her. 'Glad we could do business. Sydney?' 'Yes, Jarod?' 'Write this down. Café di Sole, Harper Street, Florida.' 'Still in Florida, Wonderboy?' she asked. He didn't answer. 'Sydney, and Sydney alone, will deliver the DSA to Cindy at the counter. In exchange for the disc, she'll give you the box. If he doesn't come alone, then the deal's off. Once he arrives back at the Centre with the box, everything is as normal. I'll collect the DSA, and we'll both have what we want.' 'Any particular time, Jarod? Day?' Sydney asked, lacing his fingers together and leaning back in his chair. 'Whatever time suits you, but as soon as possible. No need to hurry, though. Stress is a killer.'  
  
Parker turned her intense stare on Sydney once Jarod had hung up the phone.  
  
'I want details, Sid.' 'Jarod didn't tell me why he wanted the DSA, Parker. I can't tell you any more than he already has.' 'You were going to give him the DSA behind my back. Why?' Sydney gave a sigh heavy with consideration. 'Giving Jarod the DSA isn't in any way preventing his capture. He only turns to us for help when he's exhausted other options. When he asks for something, it's usually to help somebody else.' 'Why didn't you show me the DSA after Angelo mentioned it?' she pressed, still not satisfied with the response. Sydney raised his hands in defeat. 'I've seen the DSA, Parker. It doesn't concern you. Angelo may have simply picked up on the fact that Jarod wanted it.' 'I'm not buying that,' she said. 'I want to see it.' 'If you're really that concerned...' 'I am,' she assured him frostily, turning his computer around.  
  
She pressed the DSA into the drive, eyes narrowing incisively.  
  
The image that came up was indeed of SL-27. To her confusion, it was a blank. Nobody entered, nobody left... nothing happened. There was no movement whatsoever.  
  
'The whole thing is like this?' Sydney nodded. 'Why would Jarod want a blank?' 'I don't know, Parker.' 'He's up to something, Sid. Has monkey boy said anything of importance?' she asked, eyes narrowed in thought. 'Angelo has said nothing different to what he told us before. He seems to believe someone is really trying to kill you.' 'I'm amazed, really,' she said with sarcasm. 'I work in such a wonderful place. My family is so kind and loving. Who on earth would want to kill me?'  
  
The truth was, the one person she thought actually had a reasonable motive to want to kill her was probably the least likely to actually consider doing so.  
  
'This is serious, Parker. I'd trust Angelo's sense of judgement. Has he ever really led us astray?' 'In all honesty Sid, I don't care anymore. If someone wants to kill me, let them try.'  
  
* * *  
  
'Sixty four bottles of beer on the wall, sixty four bottles of beer...'  
  
Kiya gave up at having reached that number and flicked the air conditioning up a few notches. Her fingers then moved to the radio, searching for a good station.  
  
'Cree craw, toad's foot... geese walk barefoot,' she murmured, hearing a song she liked and turning it up. 'You know, I really prefer your car to this junk bucket.' 'Junk bucket?' Jarod asked, adjusting the rearview mirror. 'OK, so there's nothing wrong with the car itself. But this roof is annoying. I want the open sky above me.' 'That's fine until it starts raining,' he replied with amusement. 'This is Florida. They don't call it the sunshine state for nothing.' 'It's winter.' 'That's beside the point.' There was a short silence before Jarod spoke. 'Who worked with you?' he asked, making a turn. Kiya was thrown by the question, and looked at him in surprise. 'Huh?' she asked softly. 'Who worked with you? At the Centre?' Once she processed what he was asking, her eyes darkened.  
  
Her long hair was wind blown and wild, hanging in messy locks around her face. The unexpected change in conversation caused a look of confusion to flicker across her features, making her appear, for a few fleeting seconds, human. Imperfect. She wasn't a divine, fearless deity. Beneath her glimmering exterior, she was scared and alone.  
  
'Oh,' she said, avoiding his eyes. 'Raines, mostly. My uncle, too, but I had to call him Mr Parker. I didn't know the others. They weren't consistent, always different people. Except for Raines and Mr Parker.' Jarod glanced sideways at her as he flicked on the indicator and turned left up a busy street. 'Mr Parker worked with you? And he knew you were his niece?' 'Oh yeah,' she said, her usual manner returning. 'That's pretty much all he talked about. How my mother was Catherine's sister, and how Catherine died. He told me about his daughter, and how much alike we looked, just like our mothers. But he'd never say anything about my father. He said no one knew who he was, but he was lying.' 'Strange,' Jarod muttered. 'What's strange?' 'That they would tell you so much. The Centre delights in keeping secrets and destroying families... why would they want you to know so much about yours?' 'I don't know. But I can assure you, I wasn't very cooperative when they wanted me to do things.' 'Simulations?' She nodded. 'Most of it was like detective work. They gave me cases to solve. I actually didn't mind doing those. I was taught a lot of physical things, too. Self defense, and how to use weapons. That confused me. I'd thought they wanted my mind. Why would I need to know how to use a gun? It all makes sense now, but I still don't understand why they do it the way they do. If they need our help, why can't they just ask? Why do they have to keep us captives? If it was helping people, I'd do it out of free will.' 'But it's not helping people,' Jarod said, a dark look sweeping over his face. The look that was nearly always present when he spoke of the Centre. 'They turn things around, and use good for evil, selling our findings for the highest bid.'  
  
Jarod pulled up outside the cinema, turning down the radio, to Kiya's annoyance. A young couple got into the taxi.  
  
'Good evening,' Jarod said warmly, smiling at them in the rearview mirror. The girl smiled in return. 'James Street, please.' 'Certainly. By the way, I hope you don't mind - this is my daughter, Kiya. She's here for school research,' he explained. 'Hi,' Kiya said, twisting around in her seat to look at them.  
  
It was a short drive - James Street was a couple of blocks away. It would have been a mild walk that Jarod supposed the pair had declined due to the weather, given the time of day. It was the middle of winter and it was cold, even if they were in the sunshine state.  
  
'Where are we going?' Kiya asked with a sigh once their two latest customers had been dropped off. 'To the restaurant Davy was outside when he hit the pedestrian.' 'Ah. I see we've made the smooth transition from cabby to detective.' 'Momentarily,' Jarod agreed, slowing down for traffic. 'So you really think this guy's innocent?' 'Yes,' Jarod said firmly. 'I only knew him for a short period of time, but from what I've heard from his friends, I'm convinced it was a set up. I don't understand why someone who never drank would be twice the limit, especially on the job.' 'Have you talked to the person he hit?' 'I can't. They died, which is why he was charged for manslaughter.' 'Right. That would explain it.'  
  
When they pulled up, they sat without speaking for a short moment.  
  
'He helped you out once, didn't he?' Kiya asked quietly after awhile. 'Yes. He saved me from your cousin,' Jarod replied, staring blankly out the windscreen. 'And if he hadn't have?' 'Then I'd probably be back at the Centre right about now.' 'Then I can understand why you want to clear his name,' she said, nodding. 'It would mean a lot to me, too.' 'I owe him a lot,' Jarod replied. 'So are you going to get out and look around?' 'No.' 'Why not?' 'I'm thinking.'  
  
Jarod studied the scene carefully. He took in the quality of light, the length of the street, the road signs. Once he had documented it to memory, he started up the cab again, honoring the speed limit and driving the length of the street. Kiya observed mutely, following his discerning gaze as it picked up on every small detail.  
  
'It all fits,' he told her once they were on their way back to the depot. 'He must have been drunk. If he lost control of the vehicle by that turn, he would have had a fast enough reaction time to correct his course before he reached the spot where the victim was hit. So now the only question is... why was he drunk?' 'You think someone drugged him?' 'It's possible.' 'But why would someone do that?' Jarod sighed. 'I don't know.'  
  
* * *  
  
Miss Parker took the DSA out of the drive with frustration. Three times watching it and she still hadn't picked up of anything of importance.  
  
She began to tidy her desk, ready to leave. It was New Year's Eve, and she was going to go home and pour herself a scotch. Jarod had thoroughly aggravated her with the DSA and she was at her wit's end. To her chagrin, she had been unable to uncover any hidden meanings behind the footage that he so desperately needed that he had bargained with her for it. There was absolutely nothing there - the only point it had made was that no one had been on SL-27 that day.  
  
'Go to hell, Jarod,' she spat, though her voice lacked conviction.  
  
The cold night air hit her the moment she stepped outside, but, from years of playing the stone statue, she did not flinch.  
  
She stomped in frustration when she couldn't find her car keys. Upon discovering them in her left pocket, she slid into the car and started the motor, half expecting it to be dead. Despite her cynicism, the vehicle came to life and she pulled out of the car park, wanting nothing more than to collapse on her couch with a nice strong drink.  
  
Her impatient procedure of opening the door was interrupted by her cell ringing. Giving the door a push and slipping inside, she snatched the phone from her pocket.  
  
'What?' she asked testily. 'Now, now, Miss Parker - where's your holiday cheer?' 'It went out with the trash years ago.' The person on the other end chose to ignore the comment. 'So, are you seeing out the year with your family?' 'What family?' she asked dryly, dropping her keys on the kitchen bench top. 'I have Frankenstein for a father and Chief Cannibal for a brother. I'd prefer to spend the night alone, thanks. And you? Are you with your family?' 'No,' he replied. 'But I do have company. Surely Sydney or Mr Broots would be happy to have you?' 'They offered, Jarod. I really don't feel like company tonight.'  
  
She stepped into the dining room. To her surprise, a glass of champagne was awaiting her. In the middle of the table was a single red rose in a glass vase.  
  
'I see you've taken the time out of your busy schedule to be annoyingly kind.' 'Look under your doormat. Happy New Year, Miss Parker.'  
  
She hung up the phone with a sigh, picking up the glass before trudging back into the front of the house. Beneath the door mat was a mustard coloured envelope with her name written on it. Picking it up, she made her way into the parlour where she made herself comfortable in a lounge chair. She took a sip of the champagne, then placed it on the coffee table.  
  
Did she want to open the envelope?  
  
She had never, in the past, hesitated before opening a package from Jarod. They were torn open without thought. But this time, something was holding her back. Did she really want to know anymore horrifying secrets about her past? Could she bare to read something that would most likely convince her further that the terror was inescapable?  
  
A indecisive finger slid down the seal of the envelope, tearing it open. If she didn't look at it, she knew she would be plagued with curiosity for the rest of the evening. Giving in, she pulled out the contents - two thin sheets of her mother's stationery.  
  
'What have you found, Jarod?' she murmured, her breath nearly catching in her throat.  
  
December 31st, 1969  
  
It is New Year's Eve and I can't help but fear what terror and evil the new year is going to bring. I can sense that things here are only going to grow worse, and that I am without the power to stop them.  
  
My greatest regret is that my daughter has been raised in the middle of this turmoil. I want nothing more than to take her away from all this, and to take the other children with me. I hope that somehow I will be able to remove them from this horror, and help them start the fresh lives they deserve. Something inside of me tells me it will never happen, but I have to try.  
  
The words ended with her mother's signature. Parker felt a tear slide down her cheek and absently wiped it away, looking to the second piece of paper. In the middle of it, scrawled in haste, was one word.  
  
Parallax.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Done. Took longer than I thought, but done. Thank you for the reviews - I'd make this a bigger thanks except I'm in a hurry...  
  
The next chapter is Walking On Eggshells and should be more interesting. If you're lucky, a plot might develop ;)  
  
SezZie 


	3. Chapter III: Walking On Eggshells

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1**The Saddest Little Valentine**

**Summary: **The biggest game of cat and mouse just got bigger. The stakes are higher - lives are on the line this time around, and someone else is after Jarod... or so it seems. Who are they, and can they be worse than the Centre?

**Rating: **PG13

**Chronology:** Post-IotH.

**Genre:** Suspense/Mystery/Angst... and a little bit of romance, though short lived.

**Disclaimer: **Are you the author? I am today. Except I'm only pretending...

**Notes: **None today...

**Chapter III - Walking On Eggshells**

_The death of her mother plagued her endlessly. It was inescapable; time fell away and it was from then on that the ice began to build. The world was a prison to her. In her eyes, she was alone in the world. Nobody cared about her._

_Little did she know that she was not alone. There had always been those who cared for her, though the darkness that surrounded her prevented her knowing. _

_She had never been alone, but she never got to know. She never got to know just how important she was, especially to one in particular. To a boy that could not remember what it was like to see the sunshine, she was the light. She brought colours into his world of grey and for that, although not that alone, she was his best friend. The one string of hope in his life._

_But she never got to know._

_          - Jarod Heart, The Saddest Little Valentine, chapter three. _

Kiya was brimming with energy. She was stuck inside Jarod's apartment while he was out working his shift. He would be back in a little under an hour, which was too far away in her opinion. She was under strict instruction not to leave until he returned, and this time she was intent on honouring this request. She needed to gain Jarod's trust, and frequently going against his wishes wasn't the way to go about it.

His computer was open on the desk. A DSA was half in the drive. When her curiosity got the better of her, she pushed it in the remainder of the way. The computer made a faint buzzing sound, and the screen came to life.

'SL-27,' she said with contempt, recognising the level. 

The footage was insignificant. When it became apparent that it was a blank, she ejected it.

'Why would Jarod want a blank surveillance record of SL-27?' 

* * *   

'Broots, I want you to dig up everything in the Centre records about Parallax. It has to be a project of some sort.'

'I'll get right on it,' the tech sighed, scuttling out of the office.

'And you're absolutely sure that you haven't heard of it?' Parker asked Sydney, watching him intensely. He had yet to earn back her complete trust since the incident with the DSA.

'Nothing, Parker. I don't think I've ever heard it mentioned before now.'

'Well it meant something to my mother, and I want to know what.'

She strode coolly over to the other side of the room, surveying the foyer outside, though for what she did not know. Raising a cigarette to her vibrant vermillion lips, she turned slightly to look at Sydney.

'Heard from rat boy recently?'

'No. I haven't spoken with Jarod since we organised to exchange the DSA.'

'Strange. He hasn't called since New Year's Eve. The last time he sent anything was some whimsical birthday gift over a week ago. We've got no leads. What is he up to?'

'I don't know.'

'Maybe he's had enough of this game of catch me if you can and jumped off the radar. He's threatened to do it in the past.'

'It is possible that Jarod has decided to sever all ties he has to the Centre, completely, though it seems unlikely. Nothing to our knowledge has happened to trigger such a decision.'

'Who knows what's going on inside that overrated mind of his,' she said dryly. 'For all we know, it might just take one good look in the mirror for him to snap. We've been walking on eggshells with him from the beginning.'

'It could simply be that Jarod is merely occupied with his own affairs. We gave him his space. Perhaps he's just giving us ours.'

'It sounds like something he would do,' she admitted with a sigh. 'He's one big case of give and take.'

Sydney observed her a moment, and she could just about see the wheels turning in his head. Sensing that he was about to go into psychology mode, she braced herself for the impending round of questions.

'Have you opened the box Jarod left for you?'

'No,' she said, her lips remaining in the rounded shape long after they had formed the word.

Sydney seemed surprised.

'Is there a reason why?'

'Because something tells me that it's not the right time. I can't explain it, but somehow I just _know._ It's not meant to be opened yet.' 

'Your Inner Sense?' Sydney suggested, leaning forward in his chair, hand cupping his chin.

'It's more like intuition, though I suppose it could be connected. But this has nothing to do with voices in my mind... it's a feeling in my heart.'

'The gift of the Inner Sense allows you to perceive things by other means than the basic senses. You should trust your instincts. Even more so now that there may be danger lurking for you.'

'Speak of the devil, has there been any word of this supposed stalker of mine?' she asked, letting go of a small chuff of smoke.

'Angelo said that it was someone you thought you could trust,' Sydney said thoughtfully, leaning back. 'Has anybody's behavior seemed suspicious to you?'

'This whole place is crawling with candidates,' she replied caustically. 'How can you notice things out of the ordinary when there is no normal?'

As if in acknowledgment of this point, Broots slipped into the office and leaned against the door, looking as if he had just seen the ghost of Catherine Parker.

'You owe me so big,' he said. 

Miss Parker raised an eyebrow in a questioning manner. Broots took the cue and went on.

'That new guy Raines brought in to do all his dirty work. He almost caught me snooping around.'

'You mean his goon Anderson?'

'You know him?'

'We've met. So what did you get me?' she asked.

'Well, you were right. Parallax _was_ a project. But you'll never guess what kind. Parallax was a part of the Pretender program.'

'What?' she asked, brows shooting skyward.

'And that isn't the half of it. Parallax is still in progress!'

'All of the Pretender projects were terminated not long after Jarod escaped,' Sydney said, eyes narrowed in a confused fashion.

'Parallax was put on the back burner after Jarod escaped, but was never actually terminated. On the contrary, it's been in full swing for the past four years!'

Miss Parker perched on the edge of the desk, soaking up this new revelation.

'You're saying there's a Pretender inside the Centre somewhere?'

'No, that's the strange thing. According to this, he was released not long ago.'

'Why?' she asked, drawing out the word.

Broots looked up at her.

'The Centre released him to go after Jarod.'

* * *

Kiya had been lying peacefully on the sofa, not thinking about anything in particular, when she was overcome by a powerful buzzing inside of her head. Her first reaction was for her fingers to fly to her temples and attempt to massage the noise away, but when this failed she was forced to take a different approach.

Once she got over the initial confusion that the noise invoked, she chose to take a deep breath and make an effort to figure out what exactly was happening. The moment she relaxed, things became a hell of a lot clearer.

With a slightly troubled look gracing her features, she picked up the telephone receiver and dialed the number Jarod had given her, praying that he had his cell on him.

* * *

Jarod was on his way to the depot with an empty cab when his cell rang. The roads were somewhat crowded with vehicles rushing to get home. He frowned as he pulled it out of his pocket and answered it. The person on the other end spoke before he had a chance to.

'Where are you?'

'Kiya? On my way back. Why?'

'Who's Ethan?'

His frown deepened in confusion as he turned a corner.

'Your cousin. Why?'

'I don't know how, I don't know why... but he's in trouble.'

'Has he called you?'

'No. Jarod, listen... you need to go to the airport. He's there somewhere.'

He gave a heavy sigh.

'Alright. I'm on my way.'

The tyres screeched as he slammed on the breaks and changed direction, heading for the airport. He terminated the call and immediately dialed another number.

* * *

'Come on!' Parker growled, growing impatient at a set of traffic lights. She made an even louder noise of frustration when her cell decided to ring. A colourful string of obscenities were muttered under her breath as her right hand scrounged around, finally getting a grip on the phone.

'What?'

'Have you heard from Ethan?'

'Long time, no see. It's noisy where you are. At an airport, rat boy?'

'I need to know if you have heard from Ethan.'

'Not for nearly a year. He seems to have vanished. Why?'

'I have reason to believe he's in danger.'

'And what brought you to this conclusion?' she asked. He had successfully gained her full attention.

'Something that I don't fully understand. Which is why I'm searching for reassurance that I'm not being sent on a wild goose chase.'

'Well, I can't help you there,' she said, taking a corner with aggression.

'Miss Parker, when you were in trouble once, Ethan sensed it. It has to work both ways. Please, just try.'

'What do you want me to do? Hold a seance in the middle of the street? I'm driving for God's sake!' she said testily, but attempted to focus despite her words. 'Nothing, Jarod! I'm not getting anything!'

'Is the Centre still tracking him?'

'I don't know. Maybe. There's a hell of a lot going on that I know nothing about. It looks like I'm out of the loop. All I know is that Lyle ordered a sweeper team to Florida today. I figured he was off looking for you.'

'Florida? So they're at the airport?'

'Maybe. Why?'

'Thank you, Miss Parker.'

'Jarod, what -'

She stopped when she realised he had hung up. Giving a noise of extreme annoyance, she closed the phone and tossed it onto the passenger's street, cursing peak hour traffic to the high heavens.

* * *

The airport was crowded; very, very crowded. A large flight had obviously either arrived or was about to depart, because there were people everywhere. It was good in the sense that it meant that Jarod and, hopefully, Ethan, would have no trouble blending in. A team of sweepers, on the other hand, would stick out like a sore thumb.

Jarod wasn't entirely sure on what he was going to do if he did by some chance find himself cornered by Centre personnel. It was risky for him to even be there while he knew there was a possibility they would be around. If lady luck was on his side, he'd find Ethan and get them both out of there.

One problem: he had no idea how he was going to locate Ethan.

He was in the process of contemplating this small hitch in the plan when he saw the first sweepers. 

After all their years of chasing him, they still hadn't mastered the art of being inconspicuous. This was fine by him; if it weren't for their bluntly obvious black suits and unlimited numbers he'd have probably been caught more times than he'd have liked. 

He was scanning the room and calculating the distance to the nearest exit when a hand touched his shoulder, startling him slightly.

'Brother,' Ethan said, sounding out of breath.

'Ethan!' Jarod exclaimed without thinking. Realising his mistake, he glanced around and lowered his voice.

'Am I glad to see you,' he said. 

'There's sweepers here,' Ethan answered, turning his gaze to where the Centre employees were breaking up to search the room. 'Are they after you?'

'No, you. We need to get out of here. This way. Come on.'

They slipped quietly through the doors without being stopped, but Jarod made sure they were in the cab before he let down his guard.

'What are you doing here?' Jarod asked, casting a sideways glance at Ethan as he pulled out of the lot.

'I've been trying to catch up with you, brother. Why are there sweepers after me?'

'My guess is that they were hoping you would lead them to me.'

'Then I apologise for leading them to you. How did you know it was me they were after?'

'Because I was alerted that you were in some kind of danger. Not exactly the kind of life threatening peril that I had imagined, but I suppose for that I should be thankful. At least you're smart enough to stay away from a team of sweepers.'

'Alerted that I was in danger? How?'

'By a friend of mine that I'd like you to meet,' Jarod replied with a heavy sigh. 'Because I don't quite know what to make of her any more.'

'I don't understand.'

'Neither do I. She's one big question mark.'

Relaxing with the knowledge that they were out of danger, Jarod took his time driving back. He radioed into the depot, apologizing profusely for his late return, and dropped off the cab. While he made his way back to his apartment, he jumped on the opportunity to catch up with his half brother whom he had not seen nor heard from on the border of a year.

Ethan's sudden disappearance had been, as Jarod suspected, on a whim; a sudden impulse directed by his Inner Sense. It had taken him far away from Blue Cove, setting him on a reclusive search for their sister Emily.

'The last time I saw Emily, she was still in hospital,' Jarod said. 'Did you find her?'

'Our father and Emily are both safe and sound,' Ethan informed him. 'Once I had tracked them down, my search for you began. You're not an easy man to find, brother. I don't envy Miss Parker, that's for sure.'

'Neither do I,' Jarod said grimly. 'Especially if Lyle finds out she told me about the sweepers.'

* * *

When Jarod's red convertible pulled up outside, Kiya was relieved to see two people in it. Whoever this Ethan was, he appeared safe and sound and that set her mind at ease. Unfortunately, it left her free to ponder exactly what had happened a few hours ago.

The afternoon's experience had been a new one for her. While she was accustomed to being able to sense things without explanation, she had never heard voices - save her impetuous subconscious - in her head.

But now it had happened once, she knew it could happen again. If she focused carefully, she could still hear the faint whispers in the back of her mind. Nothing ascertainable, but they were there.

She didn't know how she was supposed to present this contentious explanation to Jarod. It was doubtful that he would believe such atrocious nonsense, and while she wasn't one to care what others thought, it didn't seem to be in her best interests that he thought she was off her rocker.

Finally deciding that being casual and upfront was her strong point, she adopted a nonchalant position on the couch, waiting for them to come inside.

'Hi,' she said offhandedly, examining the ring on her finger. 'Everything OK?'

'Yes,' Jarod said, eyeing her. 'Everything is fine. Ethan, this is Kiya. Kiya, Ethan.'

As Kiya observed Ethan, she got the strange sensation that she knew him.

'Kiya, how did you know Ethan was in danger when you didn't even know who he was?' Jarod asked. 

'I heard voices,' she said with a shrug. 'In my head. No big deal.'

Jarod stopped short.

'No,' he said, glancing at Ethan. 'It is.'

'She hears the voices too?' Ethan asked.

'When you spoke of this sensory perception of yours... I never saw it before,' Jarod said. 'Maybe we've been looking in the wrong place all along. I don't know for sure, but I think the answers you're searching for aren't with your father, although he may be a good place to start.'

He sighed and perched on the arm of the couch. Things were, in a terrible way, making wonderful sense. 

'You have the gift of the Inner Sense. Miss Parker and Ethan, they have it as well.'

'It must run in this insane family of ours,' Kiya replied, looking skeptical. 'Inner Sense? You mean I'm not the only nutcase?'

'The voices,' Ethan said, watching her. 'I never heard them so young.'

'Kiya was a prodigy at the Centre,' Jarod explained. 'Her mother, or so she was told, was your aunt.'

'Why do you say _or so I was told?_' Kiya asked suspiciously.

'Because I have reason to believe that you were lied to. About a lot of things,' Jarod replied, his brown eyes meeting her blue ones. 'It's the Centre's speciality.' 

'But it's impossible that she's not my mother. We look exactly like each other. I'll show you the photo.'

Kiya disappeared into the adjacent room momentarily, returning with a worn photograph. The image was of a woman with shoulder length dark brown hair and blue eyes, and Kiya indeed bore an unmistakable resemblance to her. There was no questioning that they were related.

'You've never shown me this before,' Jarod commented, smiling at her. 'She's beautiful.'

'I know,' Kiya replied. 

'You look just like her,' Ethan added, seeing the picture. 

'And there's no questioning that they're tied to Miss Parker and your mother,' Jarod told him. 'But something doesn't add up.'

He stood, heading towards the bedroom.

'Ethan, you should come with me. I think your sister is expecting to hear from us.' His eyes moved to Kiya. 'You stay here. The last thing we need is someone at the Centre finding out your whereabouts.'

* * *

It wasn't until nearly midnight that Miss Parker received the call she had been edgily awaiting for the majority of the afternoon. She wasted no time in accepting when her computer chirped out that she had an incoming video phone call.

'Miss Parker,' Jarod said lazily as his face appeared on the screen. 

'You took your time,' she snapped.

'It was unavoidable,' he replied.

'Apologies,' Ethan added, coming into the picture behind Jarod.

'Ethan. You're alright,' she said with noticeable relief.

'Nothing serious, just a little too close to a sweeper team for comfort,' Jarod answered. 'But thank you for informing me.'

'How did you know he was in danger in the first place?'

'I'm afraid I can't tell you that, Miss Parker.'

'And why doesn't that surprise me?' she asked bitterly.

'Listen, I need to ask you something. It's important. Did your mother have a sister?'

'No,' Miss Parker replied. 'Until recently, I had no uncles or aunts. Then again, one can hardly rely on their family tree around here.'

'Look up anything you can on Rosie Jamison,' Jarod advised. 'And maybe you'll have another blank to fill in on your family tree.'

'That's all you're going to give me?' she asked, glancing up from inspecting her fingernails. 'A name? Aren't you even going to tell me why?'

'Now,' he said teasingly. 'Where's the fun in that?'

Sensing that he was about to terminate the call, her mood immediately turned serious. He wasn't going to cut her off that easily without giving her some answers.

'You wait a second,' she snarled, putting her hands down either side of the computer screen, leaning closer. 'What do you know about Parallax?'

Jarod's casual demeanor faded slightly.

'No more than you do. I'm counting on you to do the research on this one. Good night, Miss Parker.'

She straightened up, not bothering to contain her frustration. Slamming the computer shut, she reached for a cigarette and lit it, taking, in her opinion, a well earned drag.

'I think you know more about Parallax than you're letting on, Jarod. You're hiding something and I'm going to find out what.' 

* * *

'Did you get me anything?' Miss Parker asked Broots, stepping out of the elevator.

'Well, I spoke to Andy in congenital studies. You know, the one with the twitch in his eye? I bumped into him and we were having a discussion about -'

'Broots,' she said warningly, still looking straight ahead as she strode towards the large glass doors at the end of the corridor. He took the hint.

'Anyway, he'd never heard of Parallax. _But_,' he said, glancing around as if in fear of being overheard, 'he told me that Raines has been making quite a few trips to the next floor up lately.'

'And this is of importance?'

'Miss Parker, congenital studies is on SL-28. Which means...'

She came to a stop, turning to look at him.

'That Raines has been setting up shop again in SL-27,' she said slowly. 'Broots, I want to know what he's doing down there.'

'But Miss Parker, the only way to do that would be to follow him!' 

Noticing the look on her face, his eyes widened.

'Oh no, no... no, come on, Miss Parker! That's like signing my own death warrant!'

'Better you than me. Run along now,' she said with a smile, pushing open the door to her brother's office.

'Lyle, you son of a bitch. I want to know what you think you're doing sending a sweeper team down to Florida after Ethan,' she snarled, changing ambiances the second she crossed the threshold.

Her twin seemed unfazed by her accusations.

'Mirage was a big project. Raines wants Ethan back, especially since he's in cahoots with Jarod of late,' he said insouciantly. 'I suppose you're the one that tipped him off?'

'He doesn't need me to tip him off,' she replied coolly, crossing her arms. 'Any person with good eyesight can see a bunch of bozos in black. And you can hardly say Jarod and Ethan don't have the brains to avoid them.'

'Sweepers are a necessity when dealing with lunatics like those two. They're dangerous.'

'Because they can think and you can't? I see your problem,' she said with fake sympathy. 'What are you doing trying to rope in Mirage, anyway? I would have thought Jarod would have been your number one at the moment.'

'He is,' Lyle replied, searching his desk. 'But Raines seems to be just as concerned with bringing in Ethan as Jarod at the moment. And a sub-par experiment gone awry is obviously an easier hake to handle than a full-fledged Pretender.'

'Looking for something?' she asked, dangling his keys off her index finger.

He made a grab for them, but she snatched them away.

'Where are you going?'

'None of your business,' he said stiffly, beginning to lose patience.

'Tell me where you're going, Hitler, or there won't be enough Nazis this side of the North Pole to protect your sorry ass.'

Lyle sighed, watching her a moment. When it became clear she wasn't about to back down, he rolled his eyes in defeat.

'I'm going to Florida. Where you should be, unless you're looking to be the hiatus in this manhunt. The Triumvirate is getting agitated, and I for one don't want to be in Raines's shoes if Jarod isn't brought in soon. Not that things are looking good for us at the moment.'

He made another snatch for the keys, but she withdrew them again.

'What do you know about Parallax?' she asked through gritted teeth.

'It was part of the Pretender program. It was top secret; I don't know anything else about it.'

'But you knew it was in progress,' she said, holding the keys further out pf his reach.

'Now don't go getting bent out of shape,' Lyle said with a sigh. 'Parallax is destitute. Raines terminated it three weeks ago.'

'Bullshit,' she hissed. 'I know that he's been sent out after Jarod.'

'Well if _she_ has, that's the first I've heard about it.'

'She?'

'Parallax is a Pretender by the name of Kiya. She was part of an extensive exploitation into the skills of the red file prodigies. Dad was experimenting with the abilities of the female gender. Seeing if there were any variations in endowment. Kiya was the result. She was intended to be a criminal mastermind. That's all I know.'

She extended the keys and he took them.

'If you know what's good for you, you'll stick to finding Jarod,' he informed her.

'I'll look after myself, if you don't mind,' she replied coldly, pushing open the glass doors and stalking out.

* * *

Jarod and Ethan were seated at the table in front of the laptop, searching fruitlessly through Centre records for information on Rosie Jamison. Kiya had bored of the small conversation set herself up in front of the television, braiding her hair absent mindedly.

'She's just like Miss Parker,' Ethan said quietly, looking over at her.

'An awful lot like Miss Parker,' Jarod agreed. 'It's unnerving at times.'

'I can understand why you're wary of her, but something tells me you can trust her.'

'There's no denying her heart's in the right place. But she's hiding something, and it bothers me,' Jarod sighed.

_Rich, coming from a guy who's always pretending to be something he's not_, he thought to himself.

'I can't explain it, but I get the strange feeling I know her from somewhere,' Ethan confided.

'What worries me is how much she knows,' Jarod said. 'About her family. About the Centre. About me. Especially when the Centre is so fond of keeping secrets.'

'I only wish I could stay around and help you. But something tells me you're not going to be here for long. And wherever you're going... you're going alone.'

Jarod sighed.

'When I'm finished in Florida, I'd like to find Dad again. I have so many questions and no answers. I'm hoping he can give me some.'

'And he'll be pleased to see you. Emily as well. But does Kiya know?'

'No,' was the troubled reply. 'And I don't plan to tell her. When I leave, it has to be in secret. I can't afford to leave any clues pointing towards where they're staying.'

'So you're going to disappear,' Ethan said, glancing at Kiya, who was still lazing in front of the television across the apartment.

'Not until I can provide her with some answers,' Jarod responded slowly, following his brother's gaze. 'Once I've helped Kiya as much as I can; yes.'

'If you're worried about leaving her, don't be. She's a survivor,' Ethan said quietly, sensing Jarod's ambivalence towards leaving. 

Jarod smiled slightly, his eyes still on her.

'I know.'

* * *

Miss Parker stepped carefully out from behind a pillar, her blue eyes watchful and her ears pricked. Carefully, she slipped closer to the car she was observing, taking care to minimize the click of her heels on the ground.

Lyle was standing beside the car, his cell pressed to his ear. She couldn't discern what was being said, but assumed it was his team in Florida. Wanting to move closer but refraining out of risk of being discovered, she strained her eats to pick up bits of the conversation.

She was so focused on what she was doing that she didn't notice the tall, intimidating Centre employee come up behind her. Her reaction to the hand placed on her arm was barely noticeable, but a slight start nonetheless.

'Miss Parker,' the man said, his lips curving into a small smirk. 'It confuses me as to why you're down here when you should be in your office, tracing Jarod.'

Recognising him as the Mr Anderson from Raines's office, her lip curled back in distaste as she snatched her arm away.

'God must love assholes. He made so many,' she said with venom. 'But why is it they always seem to end up here?'

'I've been informed of your sunny personality, Miss Parker, and I must say, Mr Raines's description didn't do you justice,' Anderson replied, unfazed.

'Believe me, Mr Hyde, you'll be seeing a lot more of my sunny personality if you plan on sticking around this three ringed circus, so I'd watch out,' she said icily, her eyes locking his with cold indifference.

'Thank you for the warning,' he replied, dipping his head at her before continuing along the car park. 

She followed his movement with her gaze a moment before turning her attentions back to Lyle.

Both he and the car were gone.

'Ugh!' she groaned, stomping her foot in frustration.

* * *

'Have you found anything else on Parallax, Broots?' she asked, storming into her office and throwing herself down in the chair the tech had just jumped out of.

Broots looked to Sydney, who had his eyebrows raised.

'Uh, no. Not really,' Broots answered, glancing at Miss Parker, who was glowering at something only she could see.

'All of the Parallax files seem to have been relocated.'

'I shouldn't have mentioned it to Lyle,' she sighed, rubbing her temples. 'What about Jarod? Any leads?'

'No,' Sydney replied. 'We still haven't heard from Jarod. I'm beginning to get worried.'

'Well you can save yourself the ulcer,' she said dryly. 'I spoke to him yesterday.'

'Jarod called you?' Sydney asked.

'He wanted to know if the Centre was tracing Ethan. Little brother number two had a run in with a sweeper team in Florida yesterday, it seems. And guess who sent them out there? Little brother number one. Which once again proves how much this family is full of members that really love each other.'

'Why would Mr Lyle be trying to catch Ethan?' Broots asked, confused.

'Raines wants him back,' she said dismissively, standing to walk the room. 'But while we're 

class=Section2 

on the subject, three guesses who's flying out to Florida today, and the first two don't count.'

'Lyle,' Sydney supplied, his hand going to his chin.

'Lyle seems to be under the impression Raines is in big trouble with those in higher places, which would be to our advantage if it keeps him tied up awhile. Speaking of the old wheeze bag,' she said slowly, suddenly remembering something. She turned to look at Broots. 'What did you find me?'

Broots's eyes widened slightly, and he glanced towards the door before speaking. When he answered her, his voice was just above a whisper.

'Andy was right,' he hissed.

'Andy from the accounting division?' Sydney asked.

'No. Congenital studies. You know, the one with the -'

Broots faltered under Miss Parker's withering glare.

'Raines has been doing _something_ down there, but I don't know what,' he quickly continued, averting his gaze. 'He's been making frequent trips down there, but he never seems to stay for long. I didn't have time to find out where he went. It was too dangerous. The only way to find out what he's up to would be to find a surveillance record. But since the fire, SL-27 has gone unmonitored.'

Miss Parker stopped at the window, her brain ticking.

'No,' she said slowly, looking at Sydney. 'It hasn't. The DSA Jarod wanted... it was of SL-27. It was a blank, and I couldn't figure out why. But now I think I know.'

Sydney observed her, eyes slightly narrowed with interest as she continued.

'Jarod knew I would look at the DSA,' she said, her lips starting to form a smile at the irony of it. 'He wanted us to know that they were still making DSA's of SL-27.'

'Which would mean he would have to have some idea of what Raines is doing down there,' Broots said.

'And I think it has something to do with Parallax,' was her reply. 'Find any DSA's close in number to the one Jarod wanted. I want any DSA's that have been made of SL-27 in the past three weeks.'

'I'm on it,' Broots sighed, exiting her office.

Her gaze immediately turned to Sydney.

'Jarod's being cryptic,' she told him. 'And when Jarod gets cryptic, I rely on you to decipher his clues. What do you get from this?'

'At the moment? Nothing,' Sydney replied. 'But Jarod is definitely trying to tell us something, and his obvious nuance tells me that he's warning us to be discreet.'

'When you spend enough time in this place, you tend to embrace discretion as a middle name,' she said evenly. 'In a world where everyone makes it their business to make your business their business, going unnoticed is a subtle art.'

'Just make sure you're careful, Parker,' the older man warned.

'Oh,' she assured him with a steely glint in her eye, 'I'm going to be very, very careful.'

* * *

Jarod had been looking forward to his shift the following day, mainly because he felt he needed to put some more thought into the whole Kiya mystery, and it was generally easier to think when a mordant seventeen year old wasn't attempting to instigate a battle of the wits for personal amusement.

His day was, for the most part, uneventful. This was up until around four thirty, when he picked up a most interesting passenger.

The young woman appeared to be in her late twenties; an attractive brunette with sea green eyes. Jarod exchanged a polite greeting with her when she first got into the cab, and turned onto a street that would set them in the right direction to where she wanted to go. 

After a few minutes of silence, the brunette spoke.

'I hope you don't mind me asking... but did you by any chance know Davy Reynolds? It's just that he used to work with your company...'

The woman looked uncomfortable as Jarod surveyed her in the rearview mirror.

'Yes... I did. Thought not through the cab company. I'm actually his replacement.'

'But you knew him?' she asked, brightening slightly.

'He helped me out a few years ago,' Jarod replied.

The brunette smiled weakly.

'Davy was always helping people out.'

'You knew him too?'

'I... I'm his fiancé.'

Even more so interested than he had been before, Jarod kept the conversation going.

'Do you think he was responsible for what happened that night?' he asked gently.

She looked shocked.

'I don't want to believe it, no. But Davy was tested. He was over the limit, and he hit that girl,' she said.

'But Davy didn't drink.'

Her eyes widened somewhat, meeting his in the reflection in the mirror.

'No. Never. At least, not before that night. I don't understand why he would start all of a sudden.'

'Had anything happened to Davy earlier that day? Something that may have depressed him into drinking?'

'No, nothing that I know of,' she sighed, looking out the window.

'My name is Jarod,' he informed her, rounding a corner.

'Leishelle,' the woman replied, giving him another small smile.

'Leishelle, I'm glad I got to meet you,' Jarod said. 'I could use your help.'

'Help?'

'I think Davy was set up that night,' he explained. 'And I want to clear Davy's name.'

Leishelle blinked a few times, looking thoroughly confused.

'You think Davy was set up? How? By who?'

'I don't have the who,' he answered her, taking another corner. His gaze fell randomly on the armrest to his right, coming to a stop over the Styrofoam coffee cup sitting in its holder. 

'But I think I have the how.'

**OK, I finally got that one finished. I got up to the bit where Jarod picks up Ethan and got a little stuck, but I got over it.**

**I was also going to have Miss Parker et al continue to assume that the Parallax Pretender was male, but then that scene with Lyle kind of just wrote itself.**

**I'm not especially happy with the ending, but it will do.**

**The next chapter, _Web of Lies_, should be somewhat humorous. It involves a situation with Lyle, Miss Parker and Jarod's warped sense of amusement.**

**I was feeling a little down that I only got one review for the last chapter, but anyways. Better than nothing :) I'm going to do some thank yous now:**

**Ann**

**Sauron764 – Is she still looking Mary Sue-ish?**

**Olin**

**Ginger6**

**Zsazsa1**

**Pretend03**

**Pretender Fanatic**

**Anonymous**

**A pretender fan**

**Nia**** – There is no way I could kill her! There'd be no fun in the story without Miss Parker's sarcastic comments to write! :)**

**Well, thank you to you ten people that reviewed. The next chapter should be up quite soon. I don't have quite as much time on my hands as usual since school has just started up again, but I'll manage.**

**Cheers & Beers**

**SezZie **


	4. Chapter IV: Web Of Lies

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1**The Saddest Little Valentine**

**Summary: **The biggest game of cat and mouse just got bigger. The stakes are higher - lives are on the line this time around, and someone else is after Jarod... or so it seems. Who are they, and can they be worse than the Centre?

**Rating: **PG13

**Chronology:** Post-IotH.

**Genre:** Suspense/Mystery/Angst... and a little bit of romance, though short lived.

**Disclaimer: **Are you the author? I am today. Except I'm only pretending...

**Notes: **None today...

**Chapter IV - Web Of Lies**

_All her life, all she had ever wanted was to please her father, because it was the love and affections of him that she craved above all else. Betrayal after betrayal, she took him back - because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't bring herself to tear away from the only family she had left._

_It was, ultimately, her family that kept drawing her back. She was their marionette; a puppet on strings in their control... to do their will and answer their call. _

_A prisoner to the ties that bound.___

_          - Jarod Heart, The Saddest Little Valentine, chapter four. _

'Miss Parker,' Broots hissed, sticking his head out of Sydney's office as she walked past.

'What?' she asked offhandedly, pausing to hear him out.

'I've found something I think you might want to see.'

'This better be good,' she warned him, following him through the door.

'I wasn't able to find any of the Parallax files,' he said in a hushed voice. 'But I did find this.'

'What is it?'

'It's a list of all the people that had clearance to the files before they were relocated. It's the average - Raines, the Tower. But there's one name on there that doesn't add up to its top secret classification.'

'Let me guess,' she said dryly. 'My Lyle.'

* * *

'I'm beginning to wonder about you,' Lyle informed Parker after she had invited herself into his office. 'No leads on Jarod for over a month now.'

'Oh, I've had leads,' she informed him. 'I just haven't had the time to chase them up.'

'That's a dangerous call. You're here to find Jarod, not to go nosing around in affairs that don't concern you.'

'I think I'll decide what does and doesn't concern me,' she said coldly, picking up a cigar cutter that had been lying on his desk. She examined it.

'You'd better pray that Raines doesn't find out that you haven't had a lead on Jarod since Christmas,' Lyle said. 

She ignored the comment.

'Speaking of Christmas, how was yours?' she asked with fake curiosity. 'I can see Santa didn't bring you a new thumb.'

'And I can see he didn't bring you some benevolence,' Lyle returned.

'Didn't ask for any,' she replied with a dismissive coolness. Her eyes were still on the cigar cutter in her hand.

'What do you want?'

'I want to know about Parallax,' she said evenly. 'And this time, I want the whole truth.'

'Parallax is none of your business. If Raines catches you snooping around -'

Her hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling it closer so she could examine his hand.

'He won't,' she assured him, looking up and flashing him a grin. 'Tell me, Lyle. How attached are you to your only thumb?'

She slid the blade through the cigar cutter in warning.

He knew she would do it.

'You're one sadistic bitch, Parker,' he said.

'You're not in a position to be calling me sadistic,' she said in a quiet but deadly tone. 'Now talk.'

'I don't know much. But you were right. Kiya has been sent out after Jarod.'

'And?'

'That's all I know. That and what I told you the other day. I've never even laid eyes on her.'

'What's Raines up to on SL-27?'

'I don't know.'

She slid the cutter down the length of his thumb. He winced.

'Something to do with Parallax. It's top secret. Clearance only for him and up. It involves the Triumvirate and I swear I don't know anything else.'

'You had clearance,' she contradicted, venom lacing her words.

'Temporary. I had been keeping tabs on Kiya's whereabouts, but Raines cancelled out the order three months ago.'

'Are you still tracking Ethan?'

To ensure a reply, she moved the blade forward, drawing a thin line of blood before receding.

'Yes,' Lyle managed through gritted teeth.

'Why? And I want more than just the crap you fed me the other day, Lyle.'

'Mirage was always Raines's project. He wants him back to do his dirty work.'

She made to press the blade forward again, so he continued.

'He thinks it's a surefire way to get to Jarod. If we brought in Ethan, Jarod would come back for him.'

'And he'd have himself a Pretender,' she finished, releasing Lyle. 

He ran his hand along the cut she had made.

'If you lay a finger on our brother, I will hunt you down and finish the job I started four years ago on that dock,' she warned icily. 'And believe me, I don't make the same mistake twice.'

She turned sharply on her heel and exited the room, leaving Lyle to nurse his remaining thumb.

* * *

Jarod was adamant that Davy Reynolds was innocent. He had a theory, but it was incomplete, and without solid evidence it was useless. 

In his opinion, he had been in Florida a lot longer than he would have liked. But with the confusion surrounding Davy's case, along with his promise to help Kiya, it looked like he was going to be there a little longer.

Deciding that he was getting nowhere in his investigation into the Davy mystery, he turned his attentions to Kiya's problem. He began by tapping into the Centre mainframe.

So far, his search for Rosie Jamison had been fruitless. The only evidence he had to go on that she had ever walked the earth was Kiya's word. And, he supposed, the photograph she was in possession of.

The fact that he couldn't find her meant nothing, of course. He knew more than anyone how easy it was for the Centre to completely erase a person's existence. It just didn't make his job any easier.

'Found anything?' Kiya asked, her voice unnaturally soft as she came up behind him.

'No,' he replied, putting his hands on the back of his head. 'There are no records anywhere of a Rosie Jamison. They could have been erased, which would mean the Centre is trying to cover something up.'

Kiya was wearing pale pink pajamas; a strange contrast to the dark colours she normally opted for. Her hair, which she nearly always had down, was tied back. She seemed an entirely different person.

'The Centre's always trying to cover something up,' she sighed. 

'So it seems,' he agreed grimly.

Her eyes narrowed and focused on the screen. 

'Someone else has been tracing those files,' she noted.

'Your cousin,' Jarod supplied. 'She was under the impression her mother never had a sister.'

'Why doesn't that surprise me? They keep everyone so well informed,' she said sarcastically. 'What?' she asked warily, noticing the look of amusement that crossed Jarod's face.

'You share the same mordant sense of humour,' he answered.

'She has a sense of humour?' Kiya asked in mock disbelief, resulting in Jarod giving her a diluted warning glance. 'Sorry, but she sounds like a pretty dark person to me. Crabby.'

'And for that she has justification,' Jarod said calmly, entering something into the computer. 

'Why do you always defend her? She's trying to take you back there,' Kiya said in confusion, perching herself on the edge of the table. 'She's trying to ruin your life.'

'If it wasn't her it would be someone else. She just happened to be the lucky candidate.'

'I can see you're not going to give me a direct answer here,' she said, put-out.

'Where's Ethan?' he asked her, ignoring the statement.

'Asleep.'

'Like you should be,' he said, glancing at her.

'I can't sleep. It's too early. I'm a night person,' Kiya responded with a shrug, getting up to walk the room. 'But you, Mr, are an insomniac.'

'My dreams take me to places I'd rather not go.'

'That I do understand. Thankfully, my dreams seem to be the one place I can escape the Centre. To my great fortune, I've been spared the nightmares.'

'Sometimes I wonder which are worse. The ones I really live, or the ones in my mind.'

'In reality, they're inextricably combined,' she said quietly. 'Once the Centre gets its claws into you, it's near impossible to get rid of them.'

She walked over to the window, peering out at the starry night sky.

'Once upon a time, I used to always go out at night. I'd just sit and watch the moon. Then I stopped believing.'

'In what?' he asked, swivelling his chair around slightly to watch her.

'I'd look up at the moon and I'd feel safe, because for that moment it was like I wasn't alone anymore. Like I was sharing a moment with my family, because everyone sees the same moon, right? But now I know it's stupid to think that someone was out there looking for me.'

'No,' Jarod said lightly. 'It's not.'

'It's silly,' she said, turning her head away from the window.

'It's not silly, Kiya. Because it's that same thought that has kept me going these past years. You're going to find your family.'

'It's an empty promise, Jarod. But thank you.'

* * *

It was nearly midnight, but two pale blue eyes were still very much awake. Their owner was very much aware of the glass of liquor in her left hand, and the cigarette in her right.

A tendril of smoke wafted up towards the ceiling.

Those two things aside, she wasn't aware of much else. Her mind was sufficiently blank for her to wallow in self pity. Thus her annoyance when the phone rang, knocking her from her reverie and forcing her to focus on something nontrivial.

She could have ignored it. She knew who it was. She didn't want to talk to him. She put down the glass and picked up the phone.

'What?'

One word. That was all it took. One, sole, four letter word and it was apparent to the person on the other end exactly what kind of mood she was in.

'It seems that the Centre records comply with what you thought. Not one word on Rosie Jamison,' Jarod said lazily, without preamble.

'But you still think otherwise,' she noted, emitting a cloud of smoke.

'According to the records, Mr Lyle doesn't exist. But I get the impression he is very much alive.'

She gave a short laugh.

'That one-thumbed asshole is alive and kicking, that's for sure,' she replied dryly. 'And I have the pleasure of putting up with him.'

'And how are things at the Centre?'

'A regular riot, as usual. Of course, things would change if you came back.'

'Do you really believe that?'

Choosing to disregard his comment, she pressed the remainder of her cigarette into the ashtray.

'We haven't heard from you in awhile. We were beginning to think you'd decided to disappear for good.'

'I get the feeling you'll be hearing from me very soon, Miss Parker,' Jarod replied.

'By that you mean a clue that will send us on a wild goose chase across the country, only to arrive to find you long gone, as always?'

'Those goose chases are never fruitless though, are they?'

'In other words you've found something. What?'

'You'll have to rely on that love of wild goose chases of yours to tell you that. Just remember, Miss Parker... the early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.'

'And what is that supposed to mean?'

'Oh, I'm sure you'll figure it out.'

She terminated the call before he had a chance to, lowering the phone to the table somewhat mechanically and picking up her drink.

'I'm sure I will.'

* * *

'Kiya,' Jarod called, lowering the phone. His eyes were fixed on the computer screen. 'I think you might want to come see this.'

He looked over to where she was, curled up on the couch, cat-like, in somewhat of a modified fetal position. At his words, her eyes opened lazily. Whilst being languid, they were clear and alert, without any sign that she had recently been asleep. She stretched and sat up.

'What is it?' she murmured, flexing her arms out in front of her.

'It could just be a coincidence, but -'

'There's no such thing as coincidence,' she informed him in a tone so like Miss Parker that it disturbed him. She left the couch to peer over his shoulder.

'A birth certificate issued the date I was born,' she said, reading the documents listed under the archive Jarod had up on the screen. 'It has to be mine. Do you think it would have my father's name on it?'

'I'm not sure. But look at the files beneath it.'

'Sweet Merlin,' she said, leaning closer. 'Surrogacy papers. Do you think... ?'

'There's only one way to find out,' Jarod said, leaning back in his chair and meeting her gaze. 'And that's to get a hold of those papers.'

'Which is easier said than done,' Kiya muttered. 'But not impossible.'

'No. I think I can get those documents with a little inside help. Since it concerns family, there should be no trouble convincing Miss Parker to look into it.'

'Why would she help us out?'

'A piece of my past for a piece of hers has always been the rules I've encouraged. It's about time she did me a favour,' he said, his hand stroking his chin thoughtfully. 'Don't worry. I'll get you those answers. I promise.'

* * *

'Miss Parker, something from Jarod,' Broots said, handing her a yellow package as soon as she stepped into her office. 'Lyle got one too,' he added.

Her eyes narrowed at this piece of information as she sat down and slid her finger beneath the seal and tore it open. She tipped its contents out on the desk.

'Maine,' she muttered, recognising the place in the picture on the front of a postcard. The message on the back was nothing new.

_Miss P – _

_The early bird may catch the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese._

_– J_

Along with the postcard were two pieces of paper. On one, what seemed to be a map coordinate.

'Check this out,' she said, handing the paper to Broots.

On the second sheet, a number.

'I'm presuming this is a file code,' she told Sydney, putting it back down on the desk. 'In which case it can wait.'

'It seems that Lyle, too, is headed for Maine,' he commented, gesturing to the glass doors. 

'Let him,' she replied. 'In fact, something tells me that it's within our best interests that he gets there first.'

'I got it. It's the coordinates for a small warehouse in Maine,' Broots said, bursting back into the room. 'But we'd better hurry, unless you want Mr Lyle to beat us to it.'

'I do,' she interrupted.

Broots looked confused.

'But Miss Parker, if Lyle catches Jarod -'

Her lips curled back in amusement.

'Lyle isn't going to catch Jarod. Jarod isn't in Maine. But something he wants us to see is, and it all depends on Lyle getting their first. So relax, gentlemen,' she said sarcastically, leaning back in her chair and taking out a cigarette. 'We're going to give the chief chimpanzee a head start for once.'

* * *

'Have you found out anything else about your parents?' Ethan asked Kiya, sitting down across from her at the table.

'Nothing concrete, no,' she said, taking a sip of coffee. 'But Jarod's found something that may be able to help.'

She glanced to where Jarod was sleeping on the couch. Why he hadn't just gone to bed was beyond her, but the fact that he was actually sleeping seemed to be a good sign. He had a late shift that night and he needed whatever rest he got.

After a moment, she turned back to Ethan. She watched him for a few seconds before she spoke.

'Why do we hear voices?'

'I don't know.'

'I thought it what strange, how they warned me about you when I didn't even know who you were. But when I first met you... I got the feeling I _did_ know you,' she said slowly.

'I get that feeling too,' Ethan told her. 'But then again, we are cousins.'

'Maybe,' she said, not quite understanding what she meant by it.

'You are on the run from the Centre too.'

'I was. I'm not sure if they're still interested in getting me back,' she replied with a shrug. 'I think they're directing their resources towards getting your brother back at the moment.'

'My sister is determined she's going to,' he concurred. 'She wants him back.'

'Because she thinks she'll get her freedom in return? She's living off false promises if she does. They're never going to let her go.'

'No. I get the same feeling. But I don't think anything is going to change her mind,' Ethan said.

'Yet Jarod still defends her.'

'They used to be friends. At the Centre.'

'Yes. But things have changed, and I can't see her going back,' Kiya answered, looking over at Jarod again. 'He'll never give up on her, though. He can't give up. If he gave up, he wouldn't have lasted this long.'

* * *

'I hate this place already,' Parker announced with contempt, stepping out of the black car that had brought her to Maine. 

It had been raining, and the dirt ground around the warehouse was slightly muddy. She lifted a shoe to inspect its base. The sole was stained a murky brown.

'Three pairs of shoes, Jarod,' she muttered icily. 'Three pairs of shoes ruined tracing your sorry ass across the country.'

She looked up at the warehouse. It was reasonably small - compared to ones she had seen in the past, anyway - and seemingly empty. Another Centre car was parked nearby.

There was no sign of Lyle.

'Let's move in, shall we?' she suggested, raising her eyebrows to her accomplices. 

'Lyle is still here,' Sydney noted.

'For the past four hours?' Broots asked dubiously. 'What could he be doing that takes four hours?'

'Malaysian movie marathon,' was the offhand reply as Parker stepped through the open doors to the warehouse. 

The warehouse was full of stacked crates and boxes that looked like they had been there a long time. A thick layer of dust had settled over them and the floor, and the lack of footprints suggested there had been few visitors in the past year at least.

'Looks like lab rat was low on rent money,' Parker commented, glancing around. Noticing a set of footprints that definitely did not belong to them, she began to follow the trail in the dust. 

'Parker,' Sydney said, looking ahead. 'There's a note by that door.'

She strode towards the door he had pointed it. The note, she saw once she was closer, was in Jarod's handwriting. 

_Do not enter._

The arrow on the sign was pointing to the door. Curious, but not stupid, she leaned up to peer in through the glass on the window before even considering disobeying Jarod's warning. Her caution paid off.

'And you think he would have learned his lesson last time,' she said, her lips curving in amusement. 

'What is it?' Broots asked.

Lyle, seeing her at the glass, had stood and come closer to the window. She couldn't hear him, but got the idea. The door was self-locking, and he was stuck inside. 

'Lyle,' she answered, grinning at her brother through the glass. She reached over to pull off Jarod's sign and pressed it up against the window to tease. 'Self locking door. He's trapped in there until someone decides to let him out.'

'Mr Lyle's in there?' 

Broots peered in to see, then immediately drew back.

'Wow,' he said. 'He doesn't look very happy.'

Sydney looked amused, pointing out the official notice that Jarod's note had been covering.

_Warning: self-sealing door. Keys required._

'Your suspicions were right, Parker. Jarod, it seems, is doing us a favour.'

'So that's all? We came here to see Lyle?' Broots queried, looking confused.

'No,' she replied slowly, taking a few steps back. 'There has to be more. Jarod brought us out here to find something.'

She surveyed the door and the walls around it carefully. A pin-up board covered with notices hung to the left. The majority of the pins were old and rusty, with the exception of one, a postcard which was stuck in the middle of the board. Hooked over the pin was a key ring.

'Bingo,' she muttered, snatching the keys and card down. The other side of it was blank except for a _Miss P_ scrawled in Jarod's print. She flipped it back to the picture on the front, where _Albany_ was written in the bottom right corner. Her gaze then turned to the key ring, which appeared to be the keys to a hotel room. A red eight was emblazoned on the tag.

She sighed.

'Boys, it looks like we're going to Albany.'

* * *

'Yoo-hoo, daddy dearest,' Kiya called in a sing-song voice, leaning close to Jarod's ear.

He frowned and shifted, laying still a moment before opening his eyes.

'What was that for?'

'To wake you up.'

'Why?'

'I think it's time you went to work,' Ethan explained from the table, nodding towards the clock on the wall.

'I'm not working today,' Jarod replied, sitting up. 'I swapped shifts with someone.'

'In that case, your own fault for not telling us,' Kiya said, taking a bite out of an apple. 'I'm not psychic, you know.'

Jarod rolled his eyes, then sighed, glancing over at his computer.

'I may not be working, but I do have work to do. You two will be fine here if I go?'

It was Kiya's turn to roll her eyes.

'We'll be fine. You go play detective. I'll be good.'

'I'm paying a visit to the local prison,' Jarod said, looking at Ethan. 'I think it's time I visited Davy Reynolds.'

* * *

Jarod pulled up outside the prison and sat still for a moment, lazily observing the outside of the building.

His relaxed surveying was interrupted when he caught sight of something rather interesting. A figure that seemed to be Leishelle Martin had just pushed through the glass doors at the entrance, appearing to be in considerable distress. She was followed shortly after by a man, whom Jarod also recognised.

Mark Field, from the cab company.

Eyes narrowed, Jarod got out of the car and moved a little closer, watching the pair. They were having a heated discussion about something, though what exactly he couldn't discern. A few minutes later and Leishelle apparently gave in, because she allowed Mark to put an arm around her and guide her to a car.

Jarod waited until they had driven out of the lot before making his way into the building, casting a glance over his shoulder.

Once inside he immediately slipped into Pretender mode, producing a persona with ease. He quickly convinced the authorities in charge to allow him to speak to Davy Reynolds. Five, ten minutes later and he was in the chamber with the prison telephone pressed to his ear, Davy on the other side of the glass.

Davy Reynolds was not much different to how Jarod remembered him. His hair was slightly lighter, and his skin a pasty colour. His face was somewhat hollow and thin, no doubt a result from the stress of the past month.

'You may not remember me,' Jarod said, slipping the receiver into a more comfortable position. 'I met you a few years back.'

Davy surveyed him a moment.

'Jarod,' he said eventually. 'You were being chased by a brunette with a gun.'

'You do remember,' Jarod smiled.

'I remember you, but I don't understand why you're here.'

'You told me if I was ever in Florida to drop in and see you. Here I am.'

The sandy haired man made a noise of amusement.

'Here you are, and here I am. I'm surprised they let you through. My fi - friend had some difficulty getting in. She just left.'

'Leishelle. Your fiancé.'

'You know Leishelle?' Davy sighed. 'She's not my fiancé anymore. I thought... I thought it would be best if she didn't wait around for me.'

'That's why she was crying,' Jarod said.

'Yeah. She didn't take it too well.'

Jarod paused, then asked his next question with caution.

'Did you know she was here with Mark?'

At this, Davy looked genuinely taken aback. 

'Mark Field?'

Jarod nodded.

'No,' Davy replied. 'Though I can't say I'm surprised. They used to date years ago. She broke it off, but he was never really over her.'

'Were you and Mark friends?'

'Acquaintances,' he corrected. 'Work colleagues that knew each other through Leishelle.'

The officer near the door looked at his watch.

'Time's almost up,' he told Jarod, tapping its lens.

Jarod nodded his acknowledgment and turned back to Davy.

'Davy, I need to ask you one thing.'

'Sure, Jarod. Shoot.'

'Were you drinking the night of the accident?'

Davy blinked.

'No,' he said slowly. 'That's the strange thing. I don't drink, Jarod.'

'I know,' Jarod replied. He looked over at the officer, who nodded. 'I have to go now.'

'Thank you for coming in,' Davy said, smiling sadly. 'If you see Leishelle... I just want her to be happy.'

'I understand,' Jarod assured him. 'And don't worry. I'm going to do everything within my power to clear your name.'

* * *

The Silverview Inn, Albany, was a humble lodge with cozy rooms and comfortable prices. The personnel were annoyingly cheery and only too happy to direct Miss Parker to room number eight.

'Jarod said we should be expecting you,' the lady at the desk beamed. 'He said to show you to his room, because you were here to pick up a few things he'd left behind.'

'That's why we're here,' Parker agreed, forcing a smile.

'Room eight is just upstairs and down the hall. The numbers are on the doors,' was the reply. 'You have a key?'

Miss Parker flashed the keys in the woman's direction before heading up the stairs, Sydney and Broots trailing after her.

'This had better be good,' she muttered, turning the key in the lock.

The room was immaculate; there were no apparent signs that someone had been living in it. The bed was perfectly made and the shelves were free from clutter.

'An empty room,' she said, glancing around. 'Great.'

'Not entirely empty,' Broots said, pulling open a drawer. 'There's some things in here.'

Inside the drawer were three things; a box, another set of keys and another blank postcard.

The box was locked.

'These keys don't fit the lock,' Miss Parker said, lifting the mentioned keys up to inspect them. 'It looks like another hotel room. Number eight.'

'The postcard is of Indiana,' Sydney said, examining it.

'Hotel Hiatus,' she murmured, reading the fine print along the outside of the tag.

'What does this all mean?' Broots asked.

'It means, you moron,' she said dryly, 'that we're going to Indiana.'

* * *

'How's your murder mystery going?' Kiya asked, sitting herself down on the couch next to Jarod, who had his computer on his lap. She had a bunch of grapes in one hand.

class=Section2> 

'Not too well,' Jarod admitted.

'What's the problem?' she asked, popping a grape into her mouth.

'I have a possible who, a possible how, and a possible why. But possibilities mean nothing.'

'Everything means something,' Kiya contradicted. 'Run it by me.'

He looked at her a moment before sighing and honouring her request.

'Davy Reynolds was charged with manslaughter after he lost control of his car and hit a woman. She died in hospital a day after the accident. Davy was found to have almost twice the limit of alcohol in his bloodstream, but he doesn't drink.'

'Gotcha,' she nodded. 'Go on.'

'I went to visit Davy today. When I got to the prison, I saw his fiancé Leishelle leaving, accompanied by Mark Field, a colleague of mine who Davy says used to date Leishelle.'

'And you think this might have something to do with a love triangle?'

'It might. I'm not sure,' Jarod replied.

'Anything else? What was your how?'

'Coffee,' he answered. 'There's a coffee machine in the staff room, and most of the taxi drivers drink it. It would be easy for someone to drug Davy through his coffee.'

'You have this in notes?' she queried.

'Most of it,' Jarod said, handing her a red note book. She flicked to the back, where he had written some things down.

Kiya scanned over them relatively quickly, drinking in Jarod's observations and discoveries.

She paused thoughtfully for a moment when she finished and used the opportunity to pop another grape into her mouth while she contemplated the mystery.

'It wasn't Mark,' she said eventually. 'At least, I doubt it was. If Mark were jealous, there would be much easier ways to go about getting rid of him. Drugging him wouldn't have a set effect; there was no guarantee he was going to kill some girl. If I were you, I'd be focusing on this Leishelle girl.'

Jarod's eyes narrowed slightly, a signal that he was interested in hearing the rest of her theory. 

'Her alibi's pretty shaky. So is Mark's, but hers bothers me more. She says she met up with some friends at the cinema that evening after work, which I'll buy. When you served her the other day, where did she want to go?'

'To her apartment. I picked her up from outside the bank in the square,' Jarod replied.

'What I find hard to accept is the fact that she walked from the cinema to the depot to visit Davy, then to her apartment, seven blocks away, at night, when she took a cab from the bank, five blocks away, in broad daylight. It doesn't add up,' Kiya told him. 

'What motive would Leishelle have for setting Davy up?' he asked. 'They were engaged.'

'I think you need to take a look at that paper over there, Mr Fallens,' Kiya said slyly. 'You might find it answers that question. Page two, if I'm not mistaken.'

Wondering what exactly Kiya had discovered in the paper, Jarod got up to have a look at the local gazette. Page two, in bold.

_LOCAL WINS LARGE SHARE IN LOTTERY._

He scanned the article. The reporter never mentioned a name, simply stating that the winner was a local cab driver.

'You think Leishelle wanted Davy dead for his money?' Jarod asked dubiously.

'That's up to you,' Kiya shrugged. 'That article doesn't give you a name, but it provides you with two new possible scenarios. That winner could have been Davy or Mark.'

'Thank you,' Jarod said, smiling. 'I think you may have found something.'

'Glad to help,' Kiya grinned, jumping off the couch. 'Oh, by the way... have you taken a look at the accident report?'

'Yes.'

'Look closer. Into the condition of the car, in particular.'

'What are you hinting at?' he asked suspiciously.

'Nothing,' she replied honestly. 'But if you ask me, contaminating someone's coffee doesn't necessarily kill them. If I had been doing the job, a subtle bit of interference with the vehicle would have been my backup. An innocent glitch in the system that would be difficult to deal with when drunk.'

'What did they teach you at the Centre?' Jarod asked with amusement.

'To get inside people's heads. But it's a lot easier to understand an evil-doer when you were intended to be one yourself,' she said with a smile. 'Besides, I'm no empath, but your mind's elsewhere, Jarod. You're losing focus.'

And with that, Kiya slinked out of the room.

* * *

'Our Pretender seems to have taken to simplicity of late,' Parker commented, looking around room eight of the Hotel Hiatus. 

It was in much the same state as the last; clean and void of any evidence that someone had been staying there.

'I don't think Jarod has been staying in either of these hostels,' Sydney said, inspecting the closet. 

It was empty.

'No,' she agreed. 'Rat boy is still safe and sound in Florida.'

Broots glanced at her oddly.

'Miss Parker, if you know Jarod is in Florida -'

'Ethan's with him,' she said coolly, and that was that.

They found what they were looking for in the same place as the last; the bedside drawer.

'Another box,' Broots said, pulling it out. 'Locked.'

'And another set of keys,' she added, withdrawing them by the green tag. 'What a surprise. Room number eight.'

This time there was no postcard but a photograph. A photograph of a place Miss Parker recognised almost immediately.

'St Catherine's,' she muttered. 'The convent where my mother stayed.'

'Parker,' Sydney said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder.

'I'm fine, Sid,' she said, shrugging it off and moving away. 'Let's go.'

* * *

The convent was no different to how she remembered it. It still gave off the same, eerie aura, and she couldn't shake the feeling that the place had some hidden importance that she had yet to discover.

The nuns gladly welcomed them back, warmly directing them to the eighth chamber. Unlike the previous two, this room was scattered with items. It was evident from the childish toys and scattered Pez dispensers that Jarod had at least visited this particular location recently. The question was why he had led her there.

The table near the window attracted her attention. It was relatively tidy; only a few papers lay on its surface. Along with three sets of keys, each next to a small plastic figurine.

'What is he trying to tell us?' Broots asked, looking at the strange display.

'He's trying to tell us what the keys are for. These two,' she said, pointing to the first two plastic objects, which were miniature treasure chests, 'are for the two boxes.'

She ran her fingers over the third model, a mouse in a mouse trap.

'And the last one is to free the first mouse from his trap,' she finished.

She picked up the first two sets of keys and turned away from the desk to leave.

'Uh, Miss Parker?' Broots asked.

She turned around impatiently in reply.

'Er, what about the other set of keys?'

She shot him a look that clearly said she couldn't care less if Lyle remained locked in his temporary prison.

Sydney picked up the keys with amusement.

'Come along, Broots,' he said, slipping them into his pocket. 

The boxes were back in the car, and Miss Parker wanted to hurry up and open them to find out what she had been dragged from state to state to collect. She was extremely irritated when the first box contained only a postcard identical to the one they had first received. On the back were the coordinates for the warehouse.

'So he wants us to go back to Maine, does he?' she murmured, opening the other box with aggression. 

Again, she was disappointed. The case contained only a single piece of paper. A note from Jarod.

_Miss P –_

_Aren't you sick of this game yet?_

_– J_

'Ugh!' she said in frustration, throwing the box at the ground.

'What do we do now?' Broots asked cautiously.

'We go back to Maine,' she said venomously, getting in the car and slamming the door. 

* * * 

'Miss Parker, there's a new notice on the board,' Broots pointed out once they had arrived back at the warehouse.

She stalked over and ripped it off, thoroughly irritated.

_Miss P – _

_All work for Miss Parker without any play,_

_Keeps Jarod alive another day.___

_Enjoy the goose chase?_

_– J_

She scrunched the note up and threw it at the door in aggravation, turning around to stalk back out.

'Shall I let Mr Lyle out?' Broots asked as she stormed past him, holding up the keys.

She snatched them off him and threw them at the ground near the door.

'Get a sweeper team out here,' she said icily. 'They can look after their own monkey.'

* * *

Jarod picked up the receiver in the public phone booth and dialed a number, a smile crossing his features when the person on the other end answered.

'What?'

'So, how was your goose chase today?' he asked genially, leaning against the side of the booth.

'You'd better watch out,' the icy voice threatened. 'Next time I see you, I'm putting a bullet in your kneecap.'

'I thought I'd done you a favour.'

'Locking Lyle up would have been a hell of a lot more enjoyable if I had been around to savour it,' she said testily. 'Whatever happened to these goose chases never being fruitless?'

'If I recall correctly, the first postcard arrived with a file number. From the way you're talking, Miss Parker, I'd say you haven't looked into it.'

The short pause told him he had assumed correctly.

'I'd chase it up, if you'd excuse the pun. You might find it quite interesting.'

He hung up the phone with a click.

'Very interesting indeed.'

* * *

'Did you get the file?' Parker asked coolly, walking into her office the next morning.

Broots glanced at Sydney before answering.

'Miss Parker, I'm not sure if -'

'Did you get the file?' she interrupeted.

'Yes,' he said, handing her the folder. 'And you'll never guess what they say.'

'Surrogacy papers,' she muttered. 'For an R Jamison. Jarod was right. It seems I do have an aunt.'

'But look at the certificate beneath it,' Broots said. 

Miss Parker moved the top document to the bottom of the pile. The next sheet was a certificate. A birth certificate, to be precise.

'Kiya Parker,' she said, eyebrows rising. 'Parker?'

'It seems,' Sydney said, his own eyebrows raised, 'that this Pretender is a relative of yours.'

'Cousin?' Parker queried. 'R Jamison was only a surrogate.'

'A surrogate,' Broots replied, 'for your parents.' 

'What do you mean?' she asked slowly, reaching into her drawer for a cigarette.

'I mean that according to those records, Kiya is your sister!'

'My mother was dead long before this girl was born,' she said, taken aback.

'Death doesn't stop the Centre,' Sydney said grimly. 'It looks like Raines has been playing God again.'

'You're telling me this pretender is really my sister?'

'Well, yes. According to these records,' Broots answered.

She expelled a plume of smoke.

'Great,' she said sarcastically. 'This family just keeps getting bigger and bigger. You never know, cockroach,' she said, grinning at Broots. 'For all we know, I could be your evil step sister.'

She threw the file and its papers onto her desk, looking at it as she took another puff of her cigarette, trying to get her head around the newest deception she had uncovered.

'Why?' Broots asked. 'Why create another Parker child?'

'We don't know,' Sydney answered.

'Why do they ever do anything around here?' Parker asked bitterly, exhaling smoke. 'Do they even need a reason?'

Extinguishing her cigarette, she threw a last glance at the file before glancing back up at Broots.

'I want answers, Broots. On Parallax, on Rosie Jamison. On what the hell Dr Frankenstein is doing in SL-27. How did you go tracking down surveillance DSA's?'

The tech sighed.

'I suppose I can get them now, if you want.'

'I do.'

Broots disappeared to carry out her request and she relaxed into her chair, sighing.  

'What does this all mean, Sid? What are we coming to?'

'I only wish I could answer that question, Parker,' he sighed, taking a few steps forwards.

'If we could wish for the answers, things would be a hell of a lot easier, that's for sure.'

He observed her a moment, thinking out carefully what he was going to say. 

'Things are not the way they used to be,' he commented eventually.

'What's changed?' she asked evenly, watching him.

'It may not be entirely apparent, but it's there. Something changed, on Carthis... something changed the way you look at things.'

She sighed.

'Everything's changed, Sid,' she said wearily, massaging her forehead. 'It's not just a game anymore. It's a race. And the first one to the answers... wins.' 

**And there we have it, my longest chapter yet. My mum actually reads this story, since she too is hooked on Pretender, and she said I had to go to bed unless I wrote more for her. So I wrote her more and now it's out quicker.**

**The next chapter is called _Roles Reversed_ and it's mostly to do with Miss Parker being hunted down by someone who shall remain nameless…**

**A pretender fan: We'll have to wait and see :) **

**Nans****: I love ****Sydney****, too. I love them all for different reasons, but ****Sydney**** is one of my ULTIMATE favourites. Him and Angelo. But Miss Parker's just so fun to write.**

**Trista****: You're not the only one who's confused. I confuse myself with this story sometimes :)**

**Nancy****: Miss Parker? Work together with Jarod? OK, that might last about… five seconds! Nah, they do actually join up about half way through the story. In the sequel to this, though, which I've already planned, they spend the majority of the story working together, even if they aren't being civilized *g***

**Michelle: I'd actually be interested to know what you think about Kiya! I'm always interested in knowing what impressions people get from things. And, you never know! She's a pretender, she could be anyone!**

**Thanks for the reviews :) More coming soon**

**Cheers & beers,**

**SezZie**


	5. Chapter V: Roles Reversed

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1**The Saddest Little Valentine**

**Summary: **The biggest game of cat and mouse just got bigger. The stakes are higher - lives are on the line this time around, and someone else is after Jarod... or so it seems. Who are they, and can they be worse than the Centre?

**Rating: **PG13

**Chronology:** Post-IotH.

**Genre:** Suspense/Mystery/Angst... and a little bit of romance, though short lived.

**Disclaimer: **Are you the author? I am today. Except I'm only pretending...

**Notes: **None today...

**Chapter V - Roles Reversed**

_It began in the spring. It ended with the spring and therefore it could only have begun with the spring. For the spring rain brought showers of memories through raindrops of the past, and the past was as hard to escape as it was to escape the rain. You didn't have to get wet to remember._

_For the years that preceded her mother's death and, ultimately, her undoing, she was a free spirited child; her mind filled with pictures of candy and ponies and dresses, and her heart without a care in the world. Soaring through creations of the mind that others only ever visited in their dreams. Unfortunate it was, that her world was about to change, and those magical mysteries destroyed. Forever._

_          - Jarod Heart, The Saddest Little Valentine, chapter five. _

It was around nine thirty.

On this particular February evening, things appeared to be, for the most part, normal. Blue Cove was experiencing slightly windy weather, which was to be expected for the time of year. Miss Parker was relaxing on a chaise lounge with a cigarette and a drink, thinking it strange that, so far, there had been no late night phone call from a certain Pretender.

Then again, the night was still young.

She had a slight headache, though whether it was the scotch or the heavy thinking she had been doing recently she did not know. They were not uncommon. On the contrary, she had grown quite accustomed to them. Most of the offending head-throbbing could be traced back to Jarod, of course. Everything was his fault. He always had something to do with everything, so it had to be his doing.

He was inescapable. He plagued her thoughts during the day, sneakily followed her home in the evening and occasionally had the cheek to invade her dreams - the one place she had thought she could distance herself from him and his annoying, yet sometimes amusingly boyish, nature.

Pulling her robe tighter around her, she strode out into the kitchen. An object, strategically placed on the bench top, caught her eye.

He had been there recently. She had sensed it the moment she had returned home but had chosen to ignore it. Now, the room screamed his name; taunting her, teasing her with the knowledge he had been so close without her being aware of it. It sufficiently aggravated her to the point where she had to leave the room.

She took the porcelain angel that had been so carefully placed in her line of view with her.

The angel, she knew, held some significance, and this wasn't just because Jarod continued to draw her attention to it. The porcelain figure was familiar to her, like an old friend she had not seen for many years. It was somehow important; she just needed to figure out in what way.

It appeared to be of some emotional value. Jarod seemed to know it, too - why else would he keep bringing it up? He obviously had some ulterior motive in getting her to remember what exactly the angel was.

Upon inspecting the doll closer, she realised that it had not always been an angel. The wings on its back had been attached at a later date. Sewn on, using a blue thread that was a dark contrast against the gold fabric...

_'What have you got there, Jarod?' inquired a young girl, sitting down beside the boy she was speaking to._

_'A doll.__ It was in with some old toys __Sydney__ had, and I fixed it,' he replied. 'I... I thought you might like to have it, Miss Parker.'_

_'Are you sewing those wings on it?' she asked curiously, her eyes lighting up._

_'Yes. So it can be an angel.'_

She let out a shaky breath as the day came flooding back to her. It was all so very clear now. For as innocently as the day may have began, things had soon changed.

April thirteenth, 1970.

The day her mother had supposedly died in an elevator.

'Hell, Jarod,' she spat, discarding the angel. She didn't need a reminder of what had happened that day.

_'Mommy!__ Stop it! Let me go! I want to see my mommy!'_

_The young girl kicked the men, determined not to be restrained. But no matter how she shrieked and struggled, the strong arms kept holding her back._

A tear ran down her cheek, but she didn't notice it.

'I want to see my mommy,' she whispered aloud, letting her eyes fall closed. 

As if in reply, her phone decided to ring. Drawing in a deep, quivering breath, she picked it up.

'What?'

'You sound upset,' Jarod's voice commented.__

'I got it. I got your stupid message, Jarod,' she replied bitterly. 'You gave the doll to me. The day my mother... the day I thought she died.'

'So you hadn't forgotten.'

'There's a lot about that day that I could never remember.'

'Couldn't, or didn't want to?'

She didn't reply, so he went on.

'Despite what you may think, I didn't stir up old demons to torment you,' he said, his voice gentler. 'Actually, I sent you the angel for an entirely different reason. I thought it might help you in your search for answers.'

'But you're not going to tell me how. Where's the fun in that, right?' she asked dryly.

'You know me too well, Miss Parker,' he said with obvious amusement. 

'Tell me, Jarod. Just how long did you know I had a sister?'

The seemingly offhand question threw Jarod momentarily. He, for once, didn't know what to say.

'What?' he asked, not-so-intelligently.

'Cut the crap,' she said, standing so she could vent her building fury by walking. 'Kiya Parker? My sister?'

She artfully avoided mentioning Parallax on the off-chance that he didn't already know about it. As sure as she was that he was well aware of the Pretender that was hot on his heels, there was the possibility that he didn't. If this were the case, and she mentioned it to him, it would be very easy for those higher up at the Centre to realise it had been her that jeopardized their plan, thus putting her in an awkward position.

On the other end of the line, Jarod knew exactly what she was trying to do. He was being equally careful not to hint in any way that he knew Kiya, for both their safety's sake. The fact that Miss Parker was under the impression that she and Kiya were sisters was new to him, however.

'Sister?' he echoed, surprised.

'Like you don't know,' was the cold reply.

'Miss Parker, I had no access to those files. They're kept on hand at the Centre, and there was no online versions. The only copies of them that I know of are the ones you have. I've never seen them.'

'Then why did you want me to look them up?' she challenged icily.

Feeling very much like he had just dug himself into a hole, Jarod did some quick thinking.

'I was interested as to why those files were connected to Rosie Jamison,' he told her smoothly, which wasn't a lie, but a selective version of the truth.

Parker accepted this; if she had detected any hesitation in his voice she did not show it.

'So,' she said, her voice returning to its cool tone. 'Not one new addition to the family tree, but two.'

'Do you have any idea where she is?' he asked.

'No,' she replied slowly. 'I was hoping you would.'

'I'm afraid I can't help you with that, Miss Parker.'

She paused before continuing; Jarod could practically see her, pressing her cigarette into an ashtray. What he envisioned wasn't too far from reality.

'Have you gotten any closer to finding your mother?' she asked, her tone evening somewhat.

'No,' he replied, smiling. A little over a year ago, he never would have dreamed of her asking that question. She was mellowing. 

'I guess you could say I've gotten sidetracked,' he admitted. 'But I'm not giving up.'

'If you gave up, where would we be?' she asked with a sigh. 'Your annoying perseverance happens to be the basis of my job.'

'It's the career I would have chosen, too,' he said sarcastically. 

It was slightly odd to hear Jarod adopt such a tone.

'Sarcasm isn't becoming on you, wonder boy,' she mused.

'I'm glad to hear you're taking a sudden interest.'

She was smiling, despite herself.

'Planning on being careless anytime soon? I think I'm beginning to forget what you look like,' she commented wryly.

'Oh, you know. Bald, green eyes. Excessively prominent stomach.'

'Ah, yes. I remember,' she replied, lips curling a little more.

'But I must say, Miss Parker, you had your chance a few weeks ago. I even gave you an address. What more could you wish for?'

'If the wishing theory worked then I'd skip that stage and just request that your sorry ass be dragged back to Blue Cove. It would save me a hell of a lot of trouble.'

'But where's the fun in all that? If I were you, I'd want the glory of dragging said, and I quote, "sorry ass", into the Centre.'

'I never said I'd wish you into the Centre. I'd wish you right into my custody, _then_ I'd have the glory of dragging you in. Maybe I'd even get a promotion,' she said, and he could imagine the smirk on her face.

It was strange, how easily this playful exchange was coming to her. She wasn't being cold, or even indifferent; her jabs were jocular and she was being surprisingly well tempered. Then again, she realised, the normality of their conversations had been growing since their return from Carthis.

Like Sydney had said, something had changed.

'Maybe,' he answered. 'I guess we never really know what could happen.'

A beep signified the end of the call and she lowered the receiver, trying to dislodge the smile that had crept onto her face.

'And I guess you're right, Jarod,' she sighed. 'We never really know.'

* * *

'I think,' Kiya said slyly, leaning over the back of the couch, 'that you just had to worm your way out of a tricky situation.'

'What gave you that idea?' Jarod asked lazily, putting down the phone.

'Well, first, you obviously did something to piss her off,' she replied.

'Surprising,' he muttered.

'Secondly, I saw that smooth talking. You were doing some quick thinking there, which means you slipped up. But I see you both need to work on your greetings. Most people generally say "hello" when instigating a conversation. "Goodbye", or "goodnight" is considered polite when terminating one, too. Then again, I suppose this thing you two have can hardly be classified as your average relationship.'

'No,' he concurred. 'I believe we've written rules of our own.'

Jarod stood and walked over to his desk, picking up a Pez dispenser and popping a piece of candy into his mouth. Kiya watched with amusement.

'But while we're on the topic of Miss Parker,' he began, leaning against the desk and looking over at her, 'I have some most interesting news.'

'Oh?' she queried, raising a brow with mild interest.

'But I'm not quite sure how you're going to take it. It's probably best you stay seated.'

'Try me.'

He sighed.

'Miss Parker got a hold of those surrogacy papers. She's read them, and has reached the conclusion that she has a sister.'

Kiya remained silent for a good minute before speaking.

'So the papers say my mother was a surrogate? For her parents?'

'Yes,' he replied.

'Interesting,' she said calmly. 'My mother was actually my aunt.'

Jarod watched her, slightly wary of her reaction. She seemed to notice, because she opened her mouth to explain.

'I know what you're thinking,' she sighed. 'But I think I've become immune to all this secrecy surrounding my existence. Nothing's all that surprising any more.'

'I know what you mean. It does get to the point where you think you're prepared for anything they throw at you.'

'Does she know much about me?' Kiya asked, removing the elastic from her hair and allowing it to cascade down over her shoulders.

'I'm not quite sure,' Jarod replied. 'I had to be careful what I said, for obvious reasons.'

Kiya nodded.

'So,' she mused, leaning back against the couch. 'I have a sister. Who works for the Centre. Lovely.'

'Miss Parker seemed to have a similar attitude,' he said. 'But she didn't abuse me for it for quite as long as I was expecting.'

Kiya walked over and picked up the Pez dispenser, taking a piece for herself. She sucked on it thoughtfully for a moment.

'Where does this put me on the family tree? Any other relatives I should know about?'

'Well, this would mean that Ethan is your brother.'

'Which would explain the I-feel-like-I-know-you-from-somewhere sensation,' she said, nodding.

'Somewhere, you've also got another brother. Then again,' he added, frowning, 'I don't quite know how that one works. So maybe not biologically, but in essence.'

'I almost understood that. Name?'

'From what I know, he doesn't have one. He's currently about two years old and is a prisoner of the Centre. The minute someone slips up, I can assure you your sister will be in there trying to get him out. With which I'm sure she'll succeed, taking her incredible persistence into consideration,' he continued, smiling. It faded a little when he remembered the person he had failed to mention. 

'How could I forget?' he asked himself with contempt. 'You also now share the wonderful Mr Lyle with Miss Parker as your brother. Lucky you.'

'Is that sarcasm I sense in that statement?' Kiya teased. 'I guess when I wished for a family, it was granted to the extreme.'

'It's interesting clan, I'll give you that,' Jarod replied.

'Then I suppose I'll fit right in,' she smirked. 'Hakuna Matata.'

'Ha... kuna... Ma-ta-ta?' Jarod queried, confused.

'You've obviously never seen the Lion King,' she smiled. 'Next time we're in the vicinity of a video store, remind me.'

* * *

Miss Parker was sitting idly at her desk. No leads on Jarod meant she had a lot of time on her hands, something she was not used to. Once upon a time she would have welcomed it with open arms, but now she wasn't so sure.

She let out a sigh. She was fighting a losing battle against her subconscious, which was gleefully encouraging her to light up one of the cigarettes lying on her desk. In the end she gave in and picked one up. She never got a chance to light it, however, because it was at that exact moment that Sydney and Broots decided to enter her office, successfully turning her thoughts elsewhere.

'Good morning, Parker,' Sydney said.

'Sid,' she sighed in return, dropping the cigarette. 'Have you two got me anything?'

'Actually, yes,' Broots answered. 'Probably not exactly what you were after, but I think you'll find it interesting -'

'Get to the point.'

'It's about Mr Lyle,' he said. 

'What about him?' she asked with distaste, looking contemptuous at the mere mention of her twin's name.

'It appears that Lyle is temporarily distracted from his pursuit of Jarod and Ethan,' Sydney explained.

'Now isn't this just a chance to crack out the champagne?' she said wryly. 

'At another's expense,' Sydney said with a sigh.

'Why? What sick experiment has tickled his fancy this time?'

'Lyle seems to have developed somewhat of an infatuation with a waitress from a local Thai restaurant.'

'I see,' she replied, torn between amusement at the prospect of her little brother being in love and nausea at what gruesome fate possibly awaited the object of his affections.

'The strange thing is,' Broots continued, 'he seems to be for real. You should see him, Miss Parker! I've never seen Mr Lyle act so strange!'

She looked to Sydney for confirmation of this.

'Broots is right, Parker. Lyle is acting very out of character. I'm beginning to wonder if perhaps he has genuine feelings for Xiu Ling.'

She made a noise that was a slightly more graceful version of a snort.

'The day that Lyle changes his wicked ways is the day I run off with our Pretender and get married in Vegas,' she said disdainfully. Noticing the uncertain look on Broots's face and the entertained expression on Sydney's, she felt it necessary to add, 'Which is a day that is not coming anytime soon.'

Sydney's obvious amusement failed to fade, and she began to regret her choice of words.

'I'd wipe that look off your face, Santa Claus, or you'll be ho-hoing your way to the Renewal Wing,' she warned with annoyance, wondering how on earth she had allowed such a trope to slide off her tongue. Despite its likelihood of happening being set at a dead zero, she could see exactly what Sydney found so entertaining and it disturbed her a little.

Sensing that a change of subject was in order, she pushed the feeling aside and turned back to the matter at hand.

'What about those SL-27 records?'

'There were none, Miss Parker,' Broots replied. 'The one that Jarod wanted was the last one from SL-27. After that date, either they've been taken, or none were made.'

'If they had been taken, wouldn't there be record of it?' she asked.

'There should be, yes. But the records have been completely cleared. Like they've started with a clean slate.'

Her eyes narrowed.

'Which would mean someone is trying to cover something up,' she said. 'Nothing new there. Still no more on Parallax?'

Broots's eyes widened slightly at this question.

'Not any of the files, no. But this morning I was hunting through the Centre mainframe and... Miss Parker, I think I found the program they're using to track Kiya.'

'And?' 

'From the looks of it, the last they heard, she was Brooklyn. And if she's after Jarod, that might mean that -'

'Jarod's close by,' she finished.

Wary of getting too close to Jarod until she was sure Ethan was well out of the way, Parker was hesitant in suggesting they follow the lead. She also knew, however, that failing to chase it up would create questions she didn't particularly want to answer.

Somehow, she had the feeling that Jarod had yet to leave Florida, which offered a little solace. 

'Brooklyn it is then.'

'Parker, you can hardly go to Brooklyn in search of Jarod without more information. He could be anywhere, if he's even there.'

'We'll have a better chance of getting him there than if we were to stay here, and that has to be worth something,' she said, opening her drawer. 'And I want to get to Jarod before Kiya does.'

Knowing what they would be thinking without even having to see the expressions on their faces, she immediately supplied them with an explanation.

'If anyone's going to injure that runaway guinea pig, it's going to be me.'

Broots hesitated, then spoke again. 

'There's something you should know about her,' he said.

'What?'

'Project Parallax had a catch. Kiya - she's not afraid of anything. She doesn't know fear. Aim a gun at her and she couldn't care less! Ask her to walk a tightrope above a pit of boiling lava and she'd do it!'

'Any of the Pretenders would,' Parker snapped.

'The difference between Kiya and Jarod seems to be that Jarod can experience fear and control it,' Sydney explained. 'Kiya was taught from a birth to never feel it to begin with. It's a dangerous combination - having a mastermind who isn't afraid of anything. She was most likely intended to be a weapon of some sort from the very beginning.'

'If she lays one finger on Jarod...'

'But Miss Parker, she's your sister!' Broots protested.

'All I care about is that they sent her after Jarod,' Parker said coldly, picking up her gun and making sure it was well loaded. 'And Frankenrat is _mine_.'

'Going to Brooklyn is pointless,' Sydney insisted gently. 'It would be more efficient if we stayed put a little longer and gave Broots the time to find a more exact location.'

'Fine,' she said, sliding the gun into its holster. 'Get on it, and be discreet. The last thing we need is Hannibal Lector finding out what we're up to.'

* * *

It was roughly quarter past ten in the morning when Ethan returned to Jarod's apartment after a late night outing. Jarod was sitting at his computer, something his companions were quite used to. Kiya was seated at the table and was eating her way through a bunch of grapes.

'Hello,' Ethan greeted when he stepped inside.

'Hello,' Kiya said, slipping a grape into her mouth.

She glanced over at Jarod, who seemed so caught up in what he was doing that he had failed to notice his brother's return.

'Oi, Einstein,' she called, throwing a cushion at the back of his head.

'Ow,' he protested, turning around. Frowning, he looked to Ethan. 'Hello.'

'That's better,' Kiya smirked, returning to her grapes. 'Now you just have to try that next time you talk to my sister.'

'Sister?' Ethan asked, taking off his jacket.

'Sister indeed,' Jarod concurred, leaning back in his chair. 'It appears that you are no longer Kiya's cousin, but her brother. Miss Parker found surrogacy papers.'

'You spoke to Miss Parker?'

'She was in a wonderful mood, as always,' Jarod replied. 'And relatively quick to accuse me of withholding from her the fact that she had a sister.'

Ethan glanced at Kiya.

'That would explain why we felt we knew each other,' he said, still looking slightly confused.

'I'm assuming that had something to do with your Inner Sense,' Jarod informed them, turning back to the computer screen.

'I know this is off-topic,' Kiya began, 'but hasn't it been awhile since she came looking for you?'

'That would be because of Ethan, I'm willing to wager,' he sighed. 'As determined as she is to have me back, she's quite adamant that he stays as far away from the Centre as possible.'

'What are you doing?' Ethan asked Jarod, coming up behind him.

'Trying to get into the lotteries system,' he replied. 'I need to find out the details of a recent winner.'

'Smooth, Jarod,' Kiya commented. 'When in doubt, resort to hacking.'

'Bingo,' he said, standing up.

'Well?' she demanded. 'Was I right? Who was it?'

'It wasn't Davy or Mark,' Jarod answered. 'It was Peter Chandler.'

'Someone you know?'

'Yes. Another man from the company. And I think I just figured out a whole new theory.'

'At least the lottery idea was useful,' Kiya said. 'Where are you going now?'

'To the depot.'

'Can I come?'

'No.'

'Fine. Have fun.'

Jarod sighed, opening the door.

'I will.'

* * *

Parker smiled wryly at the box on her desk. Was it really February 14th already? It seemed like only yesterday she had been drinking the old year away. She trusted Jarod had some idea of what date it was, however. Just because she had no sense of time lately didn't mean it didn't exist.

'Our Pretender isn't without good taste,' she commented, observing the expensive label. 

The chocolates looked delectable, and she wasn't about to let her begrudging attitude towards Jarod allow them to go to waste.

She was in the process of picking one out when Lyle stepped into her office unannounced and looking particularly smug. Sighing, she looked up from the box.

'What?' she asked testily.

'Does a brother need a reason to visit his sister?' he asked, picking up an ornament from her desk to examine it. She snatched it off him and replaced it.

'If that brother happens to be a slimy, scheming serpent, then yes,' she said icily.

He sighed.

'And here was I thinking you were in a good mood.'

'I was, until you stepped into my office. Now what the hell do you want?'

'I came about Dad.'

She leaned back in her chair and observed him with cool disinterest for a moment. After awhile, she raised an eyebrow.

'And which one would that be?'

'The one who disappeared off the face of the earth last year and Raines keeps insisting is dead.'

'Continue.'

'Since he's been missing over a year now, the Triumvirate has officially classified him as deceased,' Lyle told her.

'And that means so much around here,' she said dryly.

Ignoring her, he continued.

'I assume you'd want to hold some type of service.'

In all truth, the thought had never occurred to her. Things regarding her father had been business as usual; she'd never considered him dead and therefore simply put him out of her mind, waiting for him to show up when she least expected.

'I'll have to get back to you on that one,' she replied, forcing a smile. She glanced back to the box in front of her and decided that a round, patterned chocolate looked particularly delicious.

'You're trying to tell me someone asked you to be their Valentine?' Lyle smirked, noticing.

She popped the chocolate into her mouth.

'One of Jarod's better gifts,' she explained. 'Can I interest you in one?'

'I'll be fine, thanks.'

'That's right,' she grinned at him. 'We wouldn't want you to ruin your appetite for your date with Xiu Ling now, would we?'

There was an underlying meaning to her words, but either he did not pick up on it or chose to ignore it.

Unable to resist, she turned serious.

'Stay focused on the task at hand. Jarod is the most important thing, and you can't afford to have any distractions,' she warned, quoting the words he had spoken to her about Tommy as best she could.

'I happen to know exactly what my priorities are,' he returned. 'You, on the other hand, still don't seem to be getting very far with Jarod.'

'I haven't seen you bring him in,' she commented coolly. 

Lyle, obviously sensing that continuing the exchange was probably not in his best interests, dropped it and raised his hands in surrender.

'Just make sure you know what you're doing before you start meddling in matters that don't concern you.'

'I know exactly what I'm doing. Now run along; we can't have you late for your Valentines rendezvous,' she smirked.

'I'll make sure I enjoy the meal,' he informed her sourly, exiting before she could throw more insults at him.

* * *

Things appeared to be relatively quiet at the Cab Company central station when Jarod arrived. Lucy was humming as she sat at the desk, entering something into the computer. She looked up when she noticed him, appearing slightly surprised.

'Jarod. You're not meant to be working today,' she frowned.

'I know. I came to ask you a question.'

'Oh?'

'On the day... on the day of Davy's accident. Had there been any changes to the shifts?'

The blonde paused for a moment.

'Actually, there was,' Lucy replied. 'I remember. Davy and Peter had asked to swap shifts for one reason or another. But their plans must have changed, because they ended up doing their original shifts anyway. Why? Is there a problem?'

'No,' he answered. 'Everything's just fine. Thank you.'

He stepped back outside, no doubt leaving a very confused Lucy behind. Going back to his car, he pulled out his red note book and scanned over the table he had copied down. 

There had been two off-duty drivers at the time around Davy's accident had occurred. Both of which were most likely in the staff room at the time, waiting for their shifts to begin. He 

class=Section2 

was in the middle of contemplating what reason someone would have to kill a person that had just won the lottery when Lucy came up to his car.

Jarod didn't know much about Lucy, other than she was in her mid twenties and that her brother, Randy, also worked for the company. He knew even less about Randy; he had only ever met him once during the past weeks and had decided that he was a rough, surly character that looked more like a truck driver than a cabby.

'Jarod,' she said, her voice slightly hushed as she glanced around. 'When you asked before, it was about Davy, wasn't it? You're trying to find out what happened?'

He studied the anxious look on her face for a moment.

'Yes,' he said eventually. 'I am.'

'I know what happened. I put the drug into his coffee, Jarod. It was me.'

'What?' he asked. 'Why?'

'It was Randy. He told me to do it. He threatened my daughter,' Lucy said, extremely torn.

'It's OK,' he assured her. 'Lucy, you have to tell me what happened.'

'The coffee was meant for Peter, but I didn't know. Randy just told me to make sure it was there for the nine thirty shift. He must not have realised Davy and Peter had changed back. He gave me the liquid he wanted me to put in it. I didn't get it all, but later he explained that I wouldn't be implicated, because it would...'

'Show up as alcohol,' Jarod finished, getting out of the car. 'Why did Randy want Peter drugged?'

'Peter had a big win in the lottery recently. Randy said that Peter owed him money, but Peter argued with him, saying that he didn't owe him anything. Randy was mad. I don't know why he did it. I guess he just wanted revenge.'

By now, Lucy was in considerable distress.

'I wanted to tell someone, but my daughter... I can't go to jail, Jarod. I have my daughter to look after...'

'I'm glad you told me,' Jarod said, placing his hands on his shoulders. 'And your daughter is going to be fine. I promise you.'

'What are you going to do now?' she asked.

'Give Randy a taste of his own medicine,' he answered, a dark look sweeping across his features.

* * *

'Chocolate, Sid?' Parker offered when the older man stepped into her office.

'No, thank you,' he replied. He paused a moment, then added, 'You appear to be in a good mood. What's brought this on?'

She gave something that resembled a shrug, taking another chocolate from the box, which was nearing the half-empty mark.

'You've seemed to have worked your way through those relatively quickly,' Sydney commented, taking a seat.

'It's these or the smoke-sticks, Freud,' she answered. 'Since you opposed the field trip to Brooklyn, I have nothing better to do. Broots seems to have fallen off the planet, and up until now I hadn't been able to get a hold of you. Where did you disappear to?'

'I have been to visit Angelo,' he explained. 'I was informed that he had been behaving most peculiarly.'

'Oh?' she queried, arching an eyebrow. 

'It seems that Angelo is genuinely distressed concerning your safety. His empath abilities are detecting someone with the intention to kill.'

_The one time I'm in a good mood, everyone seems determined to ruin it_, she thought.

'What do you suggest I do? Hide in the closet until monkey boy gives us the all clear? The most I can promise you is that I'll play it safe until we get more information. Speaking of information, do you have any idea where our resident computer geek has gotten to? I sent him off to find me something earlier and haven't seen him since.'

'I haven't seen Broots,' Sydney shrugged, 'all morning.'

'It had better be something constructive, whatever it is he's doing,' she mused good-naturedly. 

'I'm interested as to what's made you so good tempered, Parker,' Sydney said, smiling. 'It's a pleasant surprise.'

'It's Valentine's Day, Sid,' she said dryly. 'What's not to be happy about?'

She had no idea why she was in such a tolerant mood. One would assume that, after an argument with Jarod and a painful recollection of a day she'd rather forget, she would be twice as testy as usual. But for some reason, she wasn't.

'Of course, I'd be a hell of a lot brighter if Lyle hadn't paid me a visit earlier,' she said nonchalantly. 'Have you heard? Daddy's been deemed officially dead.'

'And how does this make you feel?'

She sighed.

'I'm not sure. Despite all that's happened this past year, he was my father all my life. The only one that I knew. You'd think this would affect me in some way, but it doesn't. I feel nothing.'

He remained silent, allowing her to continue.

'Something tells me he's not dead,' she said, looking up. 'That he's out there somewhere... biding his time.'

'Your Inner Sense?' Sydney suggested.

'No,' she replied. 'Just a logical conclusion. No one really dies around here, do they? Apart from the ones with their hearts in the right place.'

'It's a perfectly normal reaction, Parker. You've been left without any real closure. No body, nothing. Yours is a mind that would require proof before it accepted that someone that was a part of your life for so long is truly gone.'

She barely took into consideration what Sydney had said. It seemed to her that he was suggesting she was in denial, which she refused to believe. Her father hadn't intended on dying. Why else would he have bothered with a parachute?

'I don't know, Sid. But I'm not settling for the Triumvirate's word. They have a habit for twisting the truth.'

Before they had a chance to continue the conversation, Broots came in, for which Parker was grateful. She felt somewhat awkward discussing her father's supposed demise with Sydney.

'Broots, you lovable moron,' she said, making an attempt at a smile. 'I was beginning to think one of this place's many reptilian residents had ingested you.'

The tech looked flattered.

'You were worried about me? Well, I... of course, there's no need...'

'Spare me,' she said, although still smiling. 'I never said I was concerned. Did you get me anything?'

Appearing confused at Miss Parker's uncharacteristic warmth, even if only slight, he took a moment to answer.

'I was... uh, I was asked to give you this. It just came,' he said, extending an envelope to her.

'From Jarod?' she asked, examining it.

'I'm not sure.'

She opened the envelope and pulled out its contents; a brochure for a botanical park on the outskirts of Florida.

'Jarod's getting lazy,' she remarked. 'His imagination seems to be diminishing. No cryptic clues.'

Again, her concern for Ethan made her hesitate. But Jarod was smart enough not to send her anywhere Ethan would be in danger of capture. If he wanted her to go to Florida, it was most likely he was well away by now.

'Get the jet ready,' she said, putting the box of chocolates into her drawer. 'It's time for another wild goose chase.'

* * *

Jarod slipped back into the depot, a flask in his hand.

'Listen, Lucy,' he said, leaning over the desk. 'I need to ask you a favour...'

* * *

'Kiya,' Jarod called, stepping inside of his apartment.

'Yeah?' she asked, looking up from the magazine she was reading. 

'You mentioned you were good with cars.'

'Are you kidding?' she said, sitting up. 'Strange as it may seem, I'm a mechanic at heart.'

'Great,' he said, eyes narrowed conspiratorially. 'In that case, I need you to do something for me...'

* * *

Randy Katz was fifteen minutes off the end of his shift when he received a last minute customer. He was dispatched to James Street to pick up a passenger and take him to a property on the other side of town.

He was feeling tired and would have preferred to have returned home, but the option wasn't there, so he had no choice but to make his way to the street that was a block or so away.

When his passenger got into the car, he didn't pay much attention to him. He was feeling strangely dizzy and disorientated.

'Is something wrong?' the person asked.

'No,' Randy replied, still frowning. 'I'm fine.'

Jarod leaned back in his seat and checked his watch, amused that Randy hadn't recognised him. It worked fine for him, of course.

'You know, you really shouldn't be driving when drunk,' he said offhandedly.

'I'm not drunk,' Randy replied, taking a corner roughly.

'No?' Jarod frowned. 'I apologise. You just seem to be showing all the symptoms of alcohol consumption.'

'What are you on about?'

'You don't seem to be driving quite so well,' he commented. 

'I'm just tired,' Randy insisted. 'This is my last job for the evening. Where did you want to go?'

'The property off Rosethorn Road,' Jarod replied.

'Right.'

By the time Randy pulled up the long, flat driveway he was having problems concentrating. His vision was beginning to swim slightly and his head was throbbing. He was determined to get the job done so he could get back to the depot and go home.

'Listen, I don't know how long this driveway goes for. I'm pretty low on fuel and I need to get back. Would you mind if I dropped you off here?'

'Not a problem,' Jarod said agreeably. 'I can walk.'

His hand had been resting on the lever that Kiya had installed for him. He flicked it over as he answered Randy's request.

'What the hell... ?' the taxi driver muttered. His efforts to stop the car were futile, but he didn't understand. Everything had been working perfectly a minute ago.

'How does it feel, Randy? Not having any control?' Jarod asked him darkly, leaning forward. 

'What have you done to my car?' Randy growled.

'Now, now - there's no point in making a fuss. It will only irritate your headache. How are you coping with the fatigue, by the way?'

'You're crazy!' Randy said. 'If I can't stop the car we're going to crash!'

'How do you think Davy felt?' 

'I don't know what you're talking about!' Randy insisted, still trying the brakes.

'Oh, I think you do. You threatened your sister so that she'd drug the coffee that night. You were angry and you couldn't care less what happened to Davy. The whole thing was your idea. Wasn't it?'

'I don't know what you're talking about!'

A wall was coming up ahead and Randy had no control of the taxi. All of the controls seemed to be locked up, including the steering, and his headache was getting worse.

'How am I meant to stop this thing?'

'Admit to what you did,' Jarod spat.

As the wall drew nearer, Randy panicked.

'It wasn't meant for Davy!' he said. 'It was meant for Peter, and I wasn't thinking straight at the time! I never meant for that to happen to Davy!'

'But it did,' Jarod shot back. 'You sent an innocent man to jail!'

'Things weren't meant to happen that way. I didn't know the shifts were swapped. If I could change things, I would. But I can't. I stuffed up!'

Satisfied with the cabby's answer, Jarod pushed the leaver back into its original position.

'Try your brakes now,' he said tersely.

Randy slammed his foot down and the car came to a screeching halt a few yards away from the wall.

'You're crazy,' he repeated.

Jarod responded by pulling out a recorder and rewinding it a bit. He pushed play.

_'It wasn't meant for Davy! It was meant for Peter, and I wasn't thinking straight at the time! I never meant for that to happen to Davy!'_

_'But it did. You sent an innocent man to jail!'_

_'Things weren't meant to happen that way. I didn't know the shifts were swapped. If I could change things, I would. But I can't. I stuffed up!'_

'Crazy? Maybe. But I know what I'm doing.'

* * *

Miss Parker was stealthily making her way through a small maze of plants, gun drawn. A noise to her right attracted her attention and she pointed the weapon in its direction, just as Broots appeared between to bushes.

'Uh, Miss Parker?'

'What?' she snapped.

'Can you, uh... point that somewhere else?'

She rolled her eyes and slipped the gun into its holster as he pushed the bushes apart and stepped out. 

'Where's Sid?' she asked. 

'I'm here,' Sydney answered, coming up the path behind them.

'Find anything?'

'Nothing,' he replied. 'I find it strange that Jarod has brought us here.'

She glanced around at the garden, hand on hip. While she wasn't one to find such scenery breathtaking, she could understand how its tranquility may interest people.

It was quiet. 

Too quiet.

'Get down,' she commanded, dropping just as a shower of fire pelted down over their heads. 

'What's going on?' Broots whispered, eyes wide as he shrank back against a hedge.

'I don't know,' she said slowly, an edge to her words. 

After a few still moments, she got to her feet and pulled out her gun.

'Who's there?'

'Miss Parker -'

'Stay back,' she snapped.

She edged quietly down the path, listening intently for any noise. The hedges made it only too easy for someone to keep themselves hidden. Five minutes later she returned from her search without having found any evidence that they had not been alone.

'Whoever was here is long gone,' she informed them coolly, keeping her gun in hand.

'Why was someone shooting at us?' Broots asked.

'Jarod's idea of a warm welcoming,' she said dryly.

'Parker, I hardly think Jarod would deliberately place us in danger,' Sydney chided.

'Jarod had nothing to do with this,' she said, wiping her forehead. 'We were set up. We should have realised this was too easy.'

Broots's eyes, if possible, widened further.

'You mean -'

'That the brochure from Jarod was a phony,' Parker finished. 'Someone wanted us out here. In a quiet, secluded spot. No witnesses.'

Knowing what Sydney would undoubtedly be thinking, she corrected herself.

'Us... or me.'

* * *

'What the hell do you think you're up to?' she snarled, stalking into Lyle's office.

'What's got you all fired up?' he asked.

'Don't give me that crap,' she warned him, her voice like ice. 'I just marginally escaped being perforated today and I want to know which one of your sewer based associates was behind it.'

'I have no idea what you're talking about,' he said. 'You need to calm down, sis.'

'Someone sent us out to Florida today to get rained on by bullets and I think you had something to do with it,' she informed him coldly, dropping the envelope and brochure onto the desk in front of him.

'It looks like a delivery from Jarod, if you ask me,' he informed her. 'I've always told you that he's unbalanced. And, no offense, it doesn't take a genius to figure out why he'd want to shoot you.'

'It's not Jarod,' she spat. 'Jarod does not shoot people. Jarod does not hunt people. Jarod helps them and then he runs away _so tell me what is really going on before I take out my gun and shoot you between the eyes!_'

'Miss Parker.'

She whirled around to find Raines standing in the doorway. Wondering how exactly she was going to get away without having to converse with the corpse she was looking at, she eventually decided to ignore him and return to the matter at hand.

'If I find out you had anything to do with this,' she said to Lyle through gritted teeth, 'I will ensure you pay. Nobody messes with me and gets away with it.'

With that, she turned and pushed past Raines, striding out without another word to either of them. 

* * *

By the time she arrived home that night, she was looking forward to a drink. Single malt would do her nicely, she decided, slamming the door to her car shut. 

On her way to the door she checked the mail and found a blank envelope inside, which confused her slightly. She was too tired to be overly concerned, however, and was more intent on getting inside.

Around ten minutes later she was seated on the lounge, glass in hand. Her fingers slid along the seal of the envelope, a move she had mastered after endless packages from Jarod.

Inside was a set of photographs.

Of her.

Getting into her car, talking to Sydney, getting onto the jet. On the tarmac at Florida. Talking to Broots. At the gardens.

Someone had been watching her.

A chill ran down her spine just as her phone rang. She reached over and picked it up somewhat mechanically.

'What?' she asked, her tone void of emotion.

'I heard you had a close encounter this afternoon.'

Not even bothering to question how he had found out about it, she stood and walked over to the window.

'It isn't you, Jarod. Is it?'

There was a short silence.

'The Centre told you it was, didn't they?'

'Lyle's up to something, Jarod, and I don't like it. Angelo's under the impression someone's trying to kill me. After today, I don't know what to believe.'

'I'm with Sydney, Miss Parker. You need to watch out for yourself.'

Sydney. So that's how he had found out.

'If today was the best they've got, it's going to take a hell of a lot more to get rid of me,' she answered.

'There's the Miss Parker I know and love,' he said amusedly. 'Sydney needn't be too concerned; I'm sure the sight of you and a gun is enough to make anyone rethink approaching you.'

'Who are they?' she asked, glancing back to where the photos lay.

'I don't know. If I find anything out, you will be the first to know. I promise.'

'What do you -'

She stopped. He had hung up.

Putting down the phone, she moved into the kitchen, where the box of chocolates was open on the bench.

'Happy Valentine's Day,' she muttered, popping one into her mouth. 

**OK, I'm not all that happy with how this chapter went, but it's done now and I've got everything sorted.**

**The next chapter is called _The Twelfth Hour_ and has nothing to do with anything much but… you'll get it when you read it. Miss Parker and Jarod actually share some screen time (OK, I know, this isn't TV but just imagine it!) which we all know is very rare so we must lap it all up :)**

**Sauron764: Lol, I my friend was reading my reviews, and when she reads yours she goes to me "Good familiarity with the show… more like obsessiveness!" I'm glad Kiya isn't Mary Sue-ish anymore :)**

**Michelle: Actually, I never really considered doing that, but I can see how that's what it would have looked like. I'm more with the theory that the Parker baby is theirs… something about that kid just doesn't add up.  Oh, and don't worry – she's not the child of Catherine and Jarod :) She's Parker's full sister… there'll be more on it later in the story.**

**Rev: Here we go :)**

**Jaccione****: Bugger school work indeed. Tell that to my teachers… and the heat! Over forty degrees Celsius and we're still out playing tennis in the sun! Blah!**

**Thank you for the reviews! I'd be writing this anyway, for my own enjoyment as well as my mother's, but this makes it more fun :) My mother actually told me the other night I could write another chapter or go to bed. I personally think that's an abuse of power.**

**Oh well, there'll be more soon!**

**Cheers & Beers,**

**SezZie**


	6. Chapter VI: The Twelfth Hour

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1**The Saddest Little Valentine**

**Summary: **The biggest game of cat and mouse just got bigger. The stakes are higher - lives are on the line this time around, and someone else is after Jarod... or so it seems. Who are they, and can they be worse than the Centre?

**Rating: **PG13

**Chronology:** Post-IotH.

**Genre:** Suspense/Mystery/Angst... and a little bit of romance, though short lived.

**Disclaimer: **Are you the author? I am today. Except I'm only pretending...

**Notes: **None today...

**Chapter VI - The Twelfth Hour**

_It was that place that brought them together and, inevitably, that place that tore them apart. From there their lives had collided once more to become inextricably combined and both had experienced something so close to hell that it was interesting to wonder what worse things life could throw at them. _

_But, as they came to learn, there was a lot left to be thrown at them. And as the web grew thicker, she was finding it harder and harder to hold on..._

_          - Jarod Heart, The Saddest Little Valentine, chapter six. _

It was relatively warm in Florida. Thus the name, no doubt - but then again, she had never really stopped to pay attention. The last time she had visited the place she'd been sprinting down the street hot on the heels of a certain someone. The pursuit had been unsuccessful, of course, but what was new? 

Surprisingly enough, her master of incognito had nothing to do with her being there. Something told her that he was still in Florida, but it was not that knowledge that had drawn her to a data annex within the city centre. No - that had been something of an entirely different nature; something that riled her even more than the prospect of playing hide and go seek with Jarod.

The scene was an unusual one. Her, alone. Walking down the street without a black car or suit in sight. No weapons. No chaos. No more than was to be expected on a busy street at peak hour, anyway. 

The reason for her appearance in Florida was an unexpected, unplanned trip. She had made her way up there alone, perhaps foolishly, neglecting to tell anyone where she was going. Her presence wouldn't be properly missed until the next day, which hopefully gave her enough time to work out what motives her mysterious benefactor had behind giving her links to Jarod. There was no doubt in her mind that whoever it was had been behind the impromptu shooting several days before. 

It was obvious that they were trying to show her that they knew just as much, if not more, about Jarod's wherabouts as she did. It had occurred to her on several occasions that it may be someone from the Centre informing her that they knew exactly what she was up to; that she was holding back with Jarod because of Ethan. The possibility that this were true ate at her to no end. If anyone were to find out that she knew where Jarod was, but wasn't taking action, she could land herself in a difficult position. However, at this point in time, she was much more concerned for Ethan's safety than her own.

The fact that Raines was just as determined as getting him back as Jarod sent chills down her spine at the thought of what the Centre would do to him if they ever did recapture him. She had, over the years, out of necessity, grown somewhat neutral towards Jarod's possible fate. Ethan was a different story. He was her brother and she was damned if he was going back there while she had something to do with it.

Her aloof blue eyes drunk in the city around her. Too much hustle and bustle for her tastes. For a person that valued solitude, the city held few attractions. Feeling that she would very much rather be back home with a cigarette and scotch in hand, she sped up the pace a little, eyes locking on the data annex a mere street away.

* * *

Having finally solved his case, Jarod was taking a final three days to make the most of his break before he left Florida. He took things relatively easy; feasting on some of his favourite sweets and languidly discussing trivial things with Kiya and Ethan, just basking in the feel of what was the closest thing he had experienced to a family in a long while.

Following a short period of immense boredom, Kiya had successfully talked him into hiring some videos from the store and having a family movie marathon, complete with popcorn - something he had definitely never had the pleasure of participating in. He took an instant liking to the Lion King and its musical score, although not quite understanding the concept of talking lions. At this Kiya and Ethan had laughed, which only succeeded in confusing him more. He hadn't let onto this, however, instead choosing to busy himself with a handful of popcorn.

All in all, he was having on of the best times of his life. It was quite apparent to him that he was going to find it difficult to leave it all behind when the time came.

They were onto their third movie - a version of Frankenstein that for some reason caused him to think of Raines more times than he would have liked - when something unexpected happened.

'She's here,' Kiya said suddenly. 'In Florida.'

'Who?' Jarod asked, although he already had a pretty good idea what the answer was going to be.

'Miss Parker,' she responded, eyes narrowing. 'I can sense it.'

Jarod looked over at Ethan, who shrugged.

'I'm not getting anything,' he said.

'Do you know why?' Jarod asked, looking back over at Kiya.

The television screen was forgotten.

'Nope. But she's here all right. Were you expecting her?'

'No,' Jarod replied, standing up. 'I didn't think she'd risk bringing a team out here while she knew Ethan was with me.'

He walked out of the room and into the kitchen. Kiya followed him.

'And you were using that as a shield?' she asked. 'She can only keep things on hold for a certain amount of tome, Jarod. Didn't you think they'd get suspicious?'

'Which was why I sent her to Indiana. To keep things moving,' he responded, pulling on his black leather jacket.

'Where are you going?' she demanded.

'Out.'

'Are you crazy? She's in town, so you're going to go around looking for her?'

'It's better that I find her and keep and eye on her than her finding me first,' he shot back, being harsher than he intended. 'At least that way I can keep her away from here and you and Ethan.'

'_What?_'

'She's after me, not you. And I'm not having your or Ethan sent back to the Centre because of me.'

'You're an idiot,' she informed him, following him to the door.

'Something's not right,' he answered, his voice gentler. 'I really don't believe she would come here now. Never, not once, have I had an encounter with her in the evening like this. She strikes during the day.'

'Just because I sensed her now doesn't mean that she's planning to come after you now! She might be waiting until the morning!'

'Trust me on this,' he responded. 'Something tells me that something is wrong, and I won't be able to let it go until I've looked into it.'

There was a silence as their eyes locked, staring unblinkingly at each other. Ethan had come into the kitchen after them and was standing in the doorway, watching.

'Fine,' she said. 'Go. Good luck finding her. She could be anywhere.'

Giving her a troubled look, Jarod glanced to Ethan.

'I'll be back soon, I promise.'

Ethan nodded.

'Go.'

And with that, Jarod stepped out into the cool evening air, wondering what on earth had possessed him to go out looking for Her.

* * *

She was armed. Her gun was heavy in its holster, a constant reminder that she wasn't entirely helpless against attack.

It would be a lie to say she wasn't worried.

The longer she thought about it, the more sense it made. Someone was trying to kill her. Someone, perchance plural, wanted her out of the way. The list of possible perpetrators was endless. 

She knew the Centre needed her. Without her, and Sydney, they would have no chance of ever seeing Jarod again. It was the Pretender's glee at annoying her and ties to Sydney that kept them only a few steps behind him all along; with the help of Broots, of course. Take away those two connections and they had absolutely nothing. But then again, she thought, it would be possible to function with her out of the equation. As long as Sydney remained, they would always have that unbreakable link to Jarod. Which meant that if someone really wanted it bad enough, her demise would not have too much of an affect on the chase.

All this brought her back to the beginning; that someone had a bounty on her head and she was still none the wiser as to who it was.

When she strode into the building, she appeared characteristically cool and unconcerned. No one seemed to query her being there, so she continued along, not quite sure of where she was going. 

The office, despite its size, was relatively empty. She supposed this owed to the time; had she been back in Blue Cove she most likely would have been home herself by now.

At some point she felt eyes on her, which unsettled her further, though she did not show it. Unable to neither shake the feeling nor identify the source of it, she kept moving, weaving in and out of the desks, expecting someone to stop her and ask her what exactly she was doing there. The security guard had eyed her when she had entered, but said nothing.

Someone was still watching her.

Strangely skittish, she spooked and slipped through a door that led to a stationery storeroom. Once inside, she felt extremely foolish at having been unnerved so easily, and took out a cigarette in aggravation. Her right hand quivered, signaling that her body was craving the nicotine, most likely the cause of her edginess.

Taking advantage of the large capacity of the storeroom, she made her way past the shelves to the very back, out of sight. She stayed there while she enjoyed her cigarette and gathered her wits, wondering for what purpose exactly she had been sent to the annex in the first place. 

She froze suddenly, thinking she had heard a rustle of paper. After a moment of complete silence she relaxed, releasing a cloud of smoke somewhat shakily. What on earth had gotten into her?

A voice startled her a second time, confirming her suspicions that someone else had entered the room. 

'And so the hunter becomes the hunted. How does it feel, having to always look over your shoulder?'

She spun around, not particularly surprised to find Him standing behind her.

'What the hell are you doing here?' she snapped defensively.

'I could ask you the same question, Miss Parker,' he replied, folding his arms. 'But since you asked first, I'm here because I want to be. I happen to enjoy the climate.'

'I was referring to here specifically, not the state,' she informed him coolly. 'But you can enjoy the climate back in Delaware, which is where I'm taking you.'

'Wanna bet?' he asked, nonchalantly raising an eyebrow. He stepped back and nodded towards the storeroom. 'How do you plan on getting us out of here?'

'What do you mean?' she asked, looking in the direction he had gestured. 

She made her way back to the door and glanced out. The office was in darkness; all lights out, all computers off. Everyone had left. The doors were shut. The building was empty.

'It looks like we're stuck in here for the night,' he commented, following her out of the storeroom, its florescent illumination the only light source. 

'Don't tell me you can't pick those locks,' she replied tersely.

'High security. Electronically locking doors,' he returned. 'I've already tried.'

'Don't give me that crap,' she shot back. 'You've outsmarted Centre security on more than one occasion.'

'I'm sorry if this wasn't quite how you'd planned to spend the evening, Miss Parker, but there's really nothing I can do.'

She sighed and crossed the room. The doors were, of course, shut tight, but it didn't stop her from trying them.

'So was the package from you? Or was it just another pathetic attempt from the person that's trying to kill me?' she asked coolly, pulling out another cigarette.

He watched her warily as she lit it, casting an eerie glow across her features.

'I never sent you anything. I wasn't planning to until I was out of Florida and away from Ethan,' Jarod answered. 'I thought you'd had enough wild goose chases for the time being.'

'I figured as much,' she replied, letting out a cloud of smoke and glancing down. 'That and the lack of hidden meaning raised my suspicions.'

'You came alone?' he asked, sitting down with his back against the wall.

'After what happened last time, I wasn't about to drag Sid and Broots into a battlefield,' was the reply. She perched herself on the edge of a desk and took another puff of her cigarette. 'They're still back in Blue Cove, no doubt wondering where the hell I've gotten to.'

'It evades me as to why your assassin would want you trapped in a data annex,' Jarod commented.

'I think the main purpose of the field trip was to alert me to the fact that whoever it is has a good idea what you're up to. And considering I'm pretty much the only one who could be classified as a step above clueless when it comes to you, it makes me wonder if the Centre has anything to do with this at all.'

'Do you really believe that?' he asked dubiously.

'No,' she said, looking at him. 'They have something to do with everything. I have my suspects.'

'And you're not going to tell me who.'

She grinned at him.

'Where's the fun in that?'

She pressed the cigarette back to her lips. When she took it away, she looked back over at him.

'You followed me in here.'

'What makes you think that?' he asked.

'Why else would you be here, Jarod? Why did you follow me?'

'Because I thought you might be in trouble,' he replied. 'You were making your way to a data annex at night. Alone. I could sense that something wasn't right.'

'Which explains why you didn't skip town at the sight of me,' she said dryly. 'You couldn't resist an opportunity to play the hero.'

There was a short silence as she began to accept the situation she was in. Trapped in a building with little hope of getting out until the morning. She found the fact that Jarod could do nothing to get them out a little suspicious, but she was too tired to argue with him.

Since Carthis, she had only come face to face with him on one other occasion, and even then it had been with him endeavoring to keep as much distance between them as possible. But now here she was, a whole night ahead of her. 

'If you sensed something was wrong, why did you come?' Jarod asked her eventually.

'I thought you knew me, Jarod,' she answered derisively. 'I'm not one to sit on the curb and clap. Someone's trying to put a bullet in me and I want to know who.'

'By walking into a trap and getting yourself killed?'

She didn't respond. In all truth, she had no idea why she had come, especially when she had instinctively known that the package, luring her to Florida, was not from Jarod. It hadn't been in possession of the common aura she associated with him and the things he sent her. Yet still she had followed its hints, all of them pointing to the annex. And, whether by intention or chance, had wound up trapped inside.

'I could do with one of those chocolates right now,' she said offhandedly, staring blankly at a wall.

'You liked them, then?'

'Exquisite,' she replied dryly, refusing to let on how much she had really enjoyed them.

A faint ticking began to get on her nerves. She shifted positions, casting the odd glance at Jarod, who had busied himself with a piece of paper.

'Having fun?' she asked wryly.

He looked up.

'Onisius,' he informed her, holding up his creation.

In the faint light coming from the open storeroom door, she could make out the form of the bird-like paper model.

'Greek god of retribution,' she murmured. 'You used to make them all the time.'

After another short silence, no doubt instigated by what she had just said, she moved away from the desk to slowly walk the carpet near where he was seated.

'So how exactly did we end up stuck in here? Didn't you see everyone leave?' she asked.

He blinked lazily, though the movement went unnoticed in the poor light.

'No,' he told her. 'I was in the broom cupboard.'

At another time, in another place, she may have responded with some witty remark. However, given the current situation, her sarcasm was beginning to diminish. One would think that such a morose position would be inspiration for a small novel of biting remarks, but it didn't seem to be the case.

The lack of conversation drew her mind back to the annoying ticking sound. It was seriously beginning to get on her nerves. If it persisted to do so, she might just have to destroy the clock guilty of making such an irritating noise.

'I swear, when I find that clock,' she muttered, her eyes searching for it.

'Clock?' Jarod echoed.

'Can't you hear it? It's driving me insane.'

'Not a thing,' he replied. 'But I do believe it is a proven fact that the sound of a clock ticking has a tendency to irritate the female gender.'

'Irritate is not the word. I'm going to find that time ticker and make it wish it was born a microwave.'

He watched her with amusement as she walked slowly around the room trying to locate the clock.

Noticing, she glared at him. The look was wasted, however, as the dark prevented him from seeing her face properly.

'I'm glad to know I amuse you,' she shot at him instead.

'If it really annoys you that much, I'll help you look for it,' he offered, getting up. 'Since there's nothing better to do.'

She didn't reply but stood perfectly still, listening intently. Finally deciding on some sort of direction, she moved to the left.

'It's over here somewhere,' she informed him.

Sighing, he followed her to the other side of the room. They paused, and she listened again.

'Bingo,' she muttered, tracing it to a desk against the far wall. She stopped short when she identified the source of the ticking.

Jarod followed her glance and froze. They slowly raked their gazes up to each other.

A bomb.

* * *

Kiya was sitting on the couch, muttering a string of curses aimed at Jarod while her fingers formed a braid in her hair. 

_Right, middle; left, middle; right..._

'Where is he?' she growled after awhile, abandoning the strands of hair she had been working on.

'I'm sure he's fine,' Ethan assured her.

They had both returned to watching the movie, though neither were concentrating on it. No matter how calm Ethan remained, she knew he was worried too.

'I shouldn't have told him,' she sighed. 'If I hadn't have said anything, he wouldn't have gone out there...'

'No,' Ethan contradicted. 'Jarod was right with what he said before. It's better for him to know where she is so he can keep an eye on her, rather than have her catch him off guard.'

'He could have waited until morning, instead of going out and walking around the city looking for someone who could be anywhere.'

'Something tells me that he'll know where she is,' Ethan responded. 'They share a connection that not even they understand.'

'I honestly don't get him,' she said. 'She wants to take him back to the Centre! Why is he always trying to help her?'

'What you don't see is that they were best friends a long time ago, and he's lost too many people close to him to let go of that.'

'Things change. People change. He's going to land himself in trouble one day. I can understand why he's reluctant to leave these things behind, but it could cost him his freedom! How can he trust her? How can you trust her?'

'She's our sister,' he said quietly.

The look in his eyes softened her.

'I'm sorry,' she said, turning away. 'Maybe it's because I've never met her. But from what I've heard, I don't think I want to.'

He watched her as she moved to the window, peering out. The effort was futile; it was too dark to see anything.

'She is, in practically every way, just like you,' Ethan informed her. 'You look just like her, yes. But in other ways. Your will, your determination. The passion you put behind the things you believe in. The way you have a sarcastic reply to everything. How you have a dark past, but somehow manage to put it behind you.'

She glanced up at him.

'I suppose that's true to all of us,' she murmured.

'Yes,' he replied.

Her gaze returned to the window, then moved to the clock. It was nearly eleven. Jarod had been gone almost an hour.

Where was he?

* * *

'Today just keeps getting better and better,' Parker commented, coolly stepping away to give Jarod his space as he examined the explosives. 'Give up on trying to shoot me. Let's skip right to the fun stuff and _blow_ me up.'

'There was no guarantee you were going to be trapped inside this building, Miss Parker,' Jarod rationalized. 'It's more likely that there's information stored on these systems that someone wants destroyed.' 

'Yeah, OK. So it's just a coincidence that the phone lines are dead?' she asked, holding a receiver to her ear.

They exchanged a glance.

'And what if you hadn't darted into the storeroom? You would have turned around and left once you saw there was nothing here for you.'

'Then why send me here?' she asked, eyes narrowed in confusion.

'I'd wager that someone is trying to scare you for the time being, not kill you. They were probably expecting you to hear about the explosion and realise that you were there only a few hours before it happened. Scare tactics.'

'It doesn't explain why the phone lines are dead.'

He moved his attention from the bomb to the telephone on the desk. There was no dial tone. Sighing, he lowered the receiver and stepped away, glancing around.

'The security cameras are all out. It looks like someone has been trying to cover their tracks.'

'Sounds familiar,' she said tonelessly. 

'If our culprit was in the building when we got here, it's possible there was a last minute change in plan,' he continued. 

She looked sideways at him, which he only just noticed in the gloom.

'If that's so, someone wasn't planning on you being here. If the Centre is behind this, which I'm willing to bet on, they'd hardly want their prize Pretender blown to smithereens in the process of eradicating insignificant me.'

He chose to ignore her, putting his back to her and re-examining the bomb. It was difficult with the lack of light.

'So can you defuse it, or are our brains going to be splattered on the walls in a few hours?'

'Half an hour,' he corrected. 'There's only twenty eight minutes left. I'm presuming it's set to go off at midnight.'

'That's just the assurance I was hoping for,' she replied sarcastically.

She was going into defensive mode. Her sense of security had been threatened and her reaction was to keep herself calm and collected by enforcing the cool front. The fact that the only other person in the room with her happened to know her well enough to look past her facade meant nothing. She put on a mask for herself rather than for anyone else.

'Rather than me sitting here and merely expecting to be blown to pieces, I now have the confirmation of a certified genius,' she continued. 'Lady Luck is on my side.'

Jarod looked back at her with slight annoyance.

'Could you shut up?'

Genuinely taken aback at what he had just said, she stared blankly at him a moment before smoothing an imaginary wrinkle from her clothes in an attempt to regain some dignity. Realizing that her attitude wasn't doing them any good, she sighed defeatedly.

'Is there anything I can do?' __

_* * *_

'If he goes and gets himself caught, this will all be my fault,' Kiya informed Ethan.

She was practically wearing a hole in the carpet, pacing up and down the room. Every so often she would pause in front of the window and peer out.

When her brother didn't answer, she glanced over at him in annoyance, ready to give him a serve for being so unconcerned. The words never left her mouth.

'What?' she asked, frowning at him as his forehead wrinkled.

He didn't reply, and she didn't press the matter further. He seemed to be concentrating on something and she wasn't about to disturb him. She waited patiently for him to finish.

'The voices were talking to you, weren't they?' she asked softly.

'They're in trouble,' Ethan responded. 'It's not with each other. It's from something else.'

'Which means he found her,' Kiya growled in agitation. 'We have to help him. Them,' she corrected, knowing Ethan would be equally concerned for Miss Parker.

'But we don't know where they are.'

'Maybe not, but I think I'll be able to figure it out,' Kiya answered, pulling on her jacket.

She stopped in front of the door and looked over at Ethan, who was hovering hesitantly.

'We have to try, Ethan. He helped me out and I owe this to him.'

'It's not that,' he replied. 'I'm just wondering if he really needs our help at all.'

* * *      __

Jarod frowned, squinting in the dimness of the room. He had succeeded in prying away a panel on the outside of the bomb, but he was too cautious to go any further. One wrong move and it would explode.

       __

'I'm presuming you don't have your cell handy,' he sighed.

'No. I left it in the car,' she replied, mentally cursing herself for having done so. 'And I'm presuming you don't have yours.'

'No. This was a spur of the moment thing,' he responded grimly, still focused on the bomb.

'Can you defuse it?' she asked again.

'The light isn't too good, and I don't want to risk moving it. I'm not even going to chance working with it unless I can see what I'm doing.'

'Do you think there's a light switch somewhere?' she asked, making to begin a search for one.

'From the looks of it, the power has been disconnected. For security reasons, the controls are probably located elsewhere.'

'But the storeroom lights are on.'

'Exactly. Which means there has to be another circuit running somewhere.' He looked over at the storeroom, then back to her. 'Go into the storeroom and look for some kind of panel on the wall. If we can find the source of power I might be able to redirect it, but we don't have much time.'

She obeyed without question, still slightly abashed at having been reprimanded by him earlier. She didn't show it, however, and coolly made her way over to the storeroom with as much pride as she could muster. 

'Box... panel... panel on the wall,' she muttered, looking around for something that fit the description. 'Great. Now I'm talking to myself.'

She made her way around the walls of the room. Time ticked away as she searched and she could find no panel. She was just about to ask how much time the actually had left before the fireworks started when her eyes finally landed on a shelf, an object catching her attention.

'Jarod!' she called, moving towards the door. 'I found a tor-'

She collided with him in the doorway.

'Get back,' he warned, pushing her towards the far end.

There was a deafening silence before a brilliant flash, and suddenly, everything went black.

* * *

'This way,' Kiya muttered, walking quickly down the street, Ethan a few paces behind her. She paused momentarily at a fork before turning sharply to the left.

Her senses had gone haywire; she was functioning on impulse and praying that her instincts weren't leading her astray. The purposeful way in which it was directing her was what made her trust in it - how could something so compulsive be wrong?

The unmistakable sound of glass breaking up ahead broke the spell she was under and she moved towards it, glancing back to make sure Ethan was still behind her.

When the source of the noise finally came into view, Kiya stopped in her tracks. Two perfect eyebrows crept up her forehead and two blue eyes opened wide.

'Sweet Merlin...'

* * *

Sirens were wailing and the air was filled with smoke. Debris was strewn around the annex and anything in a ten metre radius like cyclone had just ripped through. The ensuing fire had been surprisingly well contained, but the damage was irreparable. Whatever information had been stored on those computers had almost undoubtedly been destroyed.

Jarod kept well back, tempted to jump into pretend mode and slip into the role of an investigator of some sort but refraining. He couldn't afford to stay in Florida any longer.

The storeroom had acted as somewhat of a fort against the explosion, preventing any serious injury. After he was sure that Miss Parker was alright, he had slipped away to avoid questions. Her unconscious form had been loaded into an ambulance and he was prepared to make his getaway.

As alluring as the prospect of finding out the story behind the explosion was, it was essential to several people's safety that he left the state as soon as possible. 

His exit went unnoticed by the two people that had just arrived on the scene.

'What happened?' Ethan asked, approaching an officer.

'There was a bomb inside the annex.'

'Was anybody hurt?'

'There was a woman trapped inside, but she should be alright. She's on her way to the hospital right now to be checked out.'

'Only the one person?' Kiya pressed.

'Only one,' the man confirmed before heading over to speak to a colleague.

Ethan and Kiya exchanged a glance, both thinking along the same lines.

'Maybe it wasn't her,' she said, though her tone lacked conviction. 'Maybe he wasn't with her.'

'Your Inner Sense brought you here, didn't it?' Ethan asked.

'He's probably back at the apartment,' she said, to herself rather than to him

And with that, she turned on her heel and headed back in the direction they had just come.

* * * 

An aged man was long asleep at his house in Blue Cove when the ring of a telephone interrupted his slumber. It took him several rings to establish just what was making the sound and a further few to locate it.

'This is Sydney,' he said wearily, struggling into a sitting position.

'I apologise for waking you.'

'Jarod? Is something wrong?' He glanced at the clock. 'Jarod, it's after midnight.'

'I know,' the younger man replied. 'Listen, there was an explosion and Miss Parker and I were in it.'

Sydney straightened, concerned.

'Are you both alright?'

'I'm fine. Miss Parker has been admitted to the Florida State Hospital. Unconscious, but for the most part unharmed. I suggest you get down here before the Centre gets wind of it.'

'Of course, Jarod. Thank you for calling.'

'Take care, Sydney,' Jarod responded before hanging up the payphone with a heavy click.

He stepped out of the box and looked around at the empty street before setting off in the opposite direction.

There were matters to take care of and he didn't have much time.

* * *

'You better be here,' Kiya muttered as she stepped back inside the apartment. 

She had the feeling she was going to be disappointed.

The place seemed to be just as empty as they had left it. The television, which they had neglected to switch off, was still running. Music from an old rerun of _I Love Lucy_ filled the room.

'Something tells me he's safe,' Ethan informed her, following her gaze as it scanned every corner.

'Then where the hell is he?' she demanded, stepping into the adjacent room.

He couldn't have disappeared. Not now. Not when she was just beginning to get some real answers concerning her past.

She felt Ethan was right. She was relatively calm, which while not unusual was a little unexpected given the current situation. The absence of a sense of foreboding was coaxing her towards believing Jarod was safe and sound.

The note she found on the kitchen table set her mind at ease.

_Sorry I couldn't stick around._

_– J_

'Good luck, Jarod,' she sighed, picking up the piece of paper. 'Wherever you are.' 

* * *

She stared disdainfully at the packet of cigarettes lying on the coffee table. Apparently, both her lungs and stomach seemed to have had enough of smoke for the time being.

It didn't stop her from drinking, of course; a glass of single malt was sitting artfully beside the cigarettes, beckoning for her to pick it up.

She refrained from doing so.

Pale blue eyes, weary from lack of sleep, moved to the cell that she now made sure was always nearby.

As if by magic, the phone came alive. She answered it on the second ring and smoothly pressed it to her ear.

'What?'

She knew exactly who it was. She knew exactly what he wanted. The word 'hello' became temporarily erased from her vocabulary when the phone met her earlobe.

'I'm assuming you got away without any major maladies,' he said nonchalantly.

'I survived,' she said wryly. 'And you escaped unharmed and pulled your disappearing act. The world is still turning.'

'You never told me what it was that drew you to the annex in the first place.'

She sighed, running her fingertips over her forehead.

'I received an envelope a few days ago. It was a business card for the annex that had its operating times. The closing time was ten thirty, and it was hilighted. A subtle hint,' she commented dryly. 'I was practically certain it wasn't you. So when I went, I went alone.'

'Probably not the smartest idea you've ever had,' he teased.

'I just wish I knew who it was,' she replied. 'Now that I know what they're capable of, I don't think being in the dark is a promising option.' 

'I would have liked to have looked into it further, but I thought it was in everybody's best interests that I moved on. I'm sure you'll be pleased to know that I've left Ethan far behind.'

'You mean you abandoned your security blanket?'

'I would never consider using Ethan as a shield against the Centre,' he informed her darkly.

'I know,' was the reply. 'And I know you better than to assume such a thing.'

A short silence followed. When she realised that he had not yet hung up and didn't appear to yet have intentions of doing so, she took it upon herself to break it.

'So,' she mused. 'The chase continues.' 

'Do you think it will ever really come to an end?'

'Not as long as we're both alive and the Centre continues to function,' she sighed.

'Then for the moment, all we can do is have faith.'

'Faith is hard to come by around here. You get a little and you bury it, Jarod. It's hidden in there somewhere, long lost.'

'Maybe, but it's still there. Never lose faith, Miss Parker.'

She could sense the finality in his voice before she heard the terminating beep and lowered the phone back to the table, the glass of malt assuming its position in her right hand.

'Easier said than done.'

**Questa capitolo e molto merde, io conoscere. Mi dispiace.**

**Excuse my random use of language there :) I've been speaking it all day and it feels weird switching back to English.**

**Anyways, this chapter isn't that crash hot (but then again I say that every chapter, don't I?) since there's not much Miss Parker attitude in there, but it had to be done because this chapter is essential to the plot later on.**

**The next chapter is called _Without A Trace_ and basically it's a lot of different people (such as Parker and Kiya) trying to find out where Jarod's disappeared to this time. Miss Parker discovers that Jarod befriended a young girl in Florida and attempts to track her down, never putting two and two together. And she meets up with Ethan for a short while :)**

**THANK YOU to all my reviewers, but I just wanted to say…**

**Sauron764: WOW! I think that is the nicest review I have had for this story. I was feeling kinda down when I read it, and then it made me feel all special :) **

**Anyway, next chapter should be up in a few days… a week at the max.**

**Cheers & Beers,**

**SezZie**


	7. Chapter VII: Without A Trace

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1**The Saddest Little Valentine**

**Summary: **The biggest game of cat and mouse just got bigger. The stakes are higher - lives are on the line this time around, and someone else is after Jarod... or so it seems. Who are they, and can they be worse than the Centre?

**Rating: **PG13

**Chronology:** Post-IotH.

**Genre:** Suspense/Mystery/Angst... and a little bit of romance, though short lived.

**Disclaimer: **Are you the author? I am today. Except I'm only pretending...

**Notes: **Later on in the chapter, Jarod remarks that he doesn't know what marshmallows are. Shortly after writing it, I watched _Ghosts From The Past_ (you remember it, it's the one where someone's trying to kill Jarod and Miss Parker is oh so very distressed and has flashes from _Keys_... one of the best lines ever - "I still remember the little girl who gave me my first kiss." Don't tell me you don't know it!) At the end of which Jarod toasts marshmallows on the burning crucifix, which obviously contradicts the whole concept that he doesn't know what they are. Ignore it. Forgive. Forget.

Onward!

**Chapter VII - Without A Trace**

_As a young child, she had always gone with her heart. But as the ice began to thicken, she forgot how to feel. Her emotions were locked inside of her, and she was yet to remember where she had hidden the key. _

_While generally misinformed, she had an almost perfect understanding of the world around her. However, her pining for family lead her heart astray. She found herself constantly in the dark and struggled against it, but the effort was futile._

_An because the world had turned it's back on her, she turned her back on the world._

_          - Jarod Heart, The Saddest Little Valentine, chapter seven. _

Red lips parted and a silent sigh went mercifully unnoticed. Her eyes scanned the items on her desk distractedly. A stack of papers included the file containing a birth certificate and surrogacy papers, silently reminding her to ask Broots if he had uncovered anything of interest.

When Sydney entered, she was ready for him. She had come to work early, accurately expecting his interrogation. The previous day had been spent at home, recovering and preparing for the questions that she would undoubtedly we bombarded with. The questions Sydney had refrained from asking at the hospital.

'How are you feeling?' he asked.

'Just hunky-dory, Sid,' she replied.

'You're lucky you escaped unharmed, Parker. The damage done to the annex was quite serious.'

Her fingers traced a cut on her lower lip. That, along with another on her forehead and a few grazes and scratches, was the only sign of the explosion she had been in two days ago. 

'And I suppose I owe that all to wonder boy. What's a life or death situation without Jarod, right?' she asked dryly.

In all truth, the fact that they had gotten away without any serious injuries owed a lot to her sensitive hearing. Jarod hadn't noticed the ticking. If she hadn't been so thoroughly irritated that she had to identify the source of it, they may not have known to take shelter in the storeroom.

Sydney sighed.

'Parker, why didn't you tell us you were going to Florida?'

'I had a hunch that it was a phony. It involved me and me only, so I went alone,' she informed him coolly. 'And don't worry, your Pretender has already pointed my stupidity out to me, so your expertise isn't required this time around.'

Getting twitchy, she lit up a cigarette and puffed on it mercilessly. 

'He was tempted to stay behind and investigate, I know,' she continued. 'He hates not knowing what's going on just as much as I do. Especially now that he's been dragged into it, which was something I wanted to avoid. The whole point of me going alone was to keep this to myself.'

The doctor observed her with interest for a moment before shaking his head, a wry smile on his lips.

'What?' she asked.

'Perhaps this experience was a good one for you, Parker.'

'Excuse me?'

'When you first returned from Carthis, the manner with which you approached the task of finding Jarod had changed. You were more... compassionate about it,' he explained. 'Now that the two of you have spent more quality time together -' at this she snorted and turned away, '- this attitude may be temporarily restored.'

'And I was beginning to think you actually had a faint idea as to what you were talking about,' she said with cool amusement. 'Don't,' she added, before he could speak again.

He didn't bother to hide his smile.

'Don't what?'

'I can see that look on your face. You're itching to get me lying down on a couch so you can start with the psychobabble. I'm not in the mood.'

He raised his hands in defeat.

'If you didn't want to discuss this, then why did you want to talk to me?'

'What do you mean?' she asked, raising her eyebrows. 'No offense, Sid, but a morning game of twenty questions was never on my agenda.'

Sydney's brow creased.

'Lyle told me that you wished to see me.'

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and she immediately got to her feet, the wheels turning.

'How much would you like to bet he wanted you out of your office?' she asked, striding across the room to the door. 

The doctor shrugged.

'Why?'

'That is the question. Come on Freud. Let's go see what Tom Thumb's up to.' 

When they got to Sydney's office, she wasn't too surprised to see her brother inside. A thousand and one ways to kill a rat flickered across her mind as she watched him with disgust.

'Wait here,' she told Sydney before pushing open the door. 'I think it's time baby brother and I had a little bonding session.'

Lyle, who had been searching through the desk, looked up in shock when she entered. The expression was replaced with a sigh as he prepared for the impending serve.

'I heard you had a pretty explosive weekend,' he commented.

'What do you think you're doing?' she asked brusquely, hands on hips.

'Something that's none of your business,' he returned, both his tone and stance stiff.

She glanced at what was in his hand - a map and the postcards Jarod had left them on his last goose chase - then back up to his face.

'Jarod is my business. Always has been, always will be. Especially when it also involves you and an intrusion into my shrink's office. Now what are you doing?' she demanded through gritted teeth.

He faltered under her frosty glare.

'Anderson sent me here,' he told her, relenting.

'Really? I never knew Raines's Mr Hyde had you so well... under thumb,' she smirked, raising her thumb to him before turning it so it was pointing downwards.

With incredible speed, she crossed the distance between herself and the desk and put her hands down on it, leaning forward so he could hear her icy whisper. 

'I want to know exactly where you think you're going with those,' she said, looking pointedly at the postcards, 'and I want the truth. I know you sent Sydney to see me so that you could come and snoop, so don't even try to talk your way out of this.'

He observed her for a moment before speaking.

'The pursuit of Jarod is my job too, remember? I'm willing to do whatever it takes to bring him in. If you want to risk your neck by sitting idle, that's your choice,' he said, taking a step towards the door.

'I thought you were focused on Ethan?' she challenged, moving to block his exit.

'That doesn't mean Jarod is on the back burner.'

She glowered at him.

'I believe you have something of mine?' she ground out in a dangerously quiet tone.

He dropped the postcards on the desk and raised his palms defeatedly.

'Just for the records,' she added as he headed for the door, 'these are yesterday's news. Souvenirs from your little caper in Maine. Oh, and Lyle?'

He paused to hear her out, but didn't turn to look at her.

'Say hi to Xiu Ling for me, would you? That is, if she's still around.'

Lyle pushed through the door and nearly bumped into Sydney. Blatantly ignoring the older man's questioning gaze, he slithered off to an elevator. After watching his retreat, Sydney stepped into his office.

'He is up to something,' Parker informed him before he could get a word in. 'And he loves it that I don't have a clue what.'

'What,' Sydney sighed, 'was he doing this time?'

'Taking a sudden interest in tourism,' she supplied, picking up one of the postcards and flashing it at him. 'I think he was after more, but I interrupted him.'

'Has it occurred to you that perhaps Lyle is merely making an effort to track down Jarod? We do have an advantage with Jarod's... gifts,' he answered. 'Maybe he's just trying to even the score.'

She shook her head; there had to be more to it.

'Lyle is stupid, but not that stupid. He would have to be after something in particular before he would resort to risking his behind by sniffing around in here. He's under the impression that his ass is his best asset, and he'll go to great lengths to protect it.'

'You think that Lyle has something to do with your recent... encounters?'

'If not that, then something equally destructive. With him, who knows,' she sighed, perching on the edge of the desk in thought. 

Sydney observed her as she contemplated something, and was all ears when she spoke again a moment later.

'As psycho as he is, I don't think it's Lyle that wants me dead. I'm family. Besides, he knows that if I found out I'd personally eradicate him,' she told him. 'But I'm interested to know what that goon Anderson has to do with this all. Do you know why he's here?'

The man shrugged.

'Not a clue.'

'Well I'm going to find out. And when I do...' she trailed off, massaging her forehead and glancing down at the floor. 

'There's going to be hell to pay.'

* * *

Jarod sighed and took a bite out of the chocolate bar he had just bought. Almost a week had passed and he had put Florida far behind him. Colorado Springs was the scene of his latest pretend; one that surprisingly didn't involve a murder or a kidnapping or anything close. For the first time in what seemed like years he had decided to take things easy; he had opted for volunteer work in a community youth centre that provided free help and support for the younger locals, along with supplying them with a wide range of fun activities. He found himself slipping quite easily into the role of a mentor to some of the regulars, using his past to assist them with their issues. Needless to say, he had become quite popular.

This particular afternoon, he was enjoying the sunshine in the park that was next to the youth centre. The photograph that he had received over a year ago - the very one that had sent him to Carthis - was in his hand. More than twelve months had passed since then and he was no closer to deciphering its meaning. 

As his gaze ran over the face of Catherine Parker, her daughter inevitably came to mind. He couldn't, as hard as he tried, shake the need to know more about the whole situation in Florida. It was obvious that it was no longer an empty threat; whoever was after her had illustrated quite clearly that a death, or a serious injury in the least, was on the agenda.

And then there was Kiya. 

He hoped that she and Ethan would have the sense to split up. He felt guilty at having left so quickly, but as much as he wished that it were practical for them to keep together, things just didn't work that way. Especially now that they knew the Centre was after Ethan again.

Once again, it was that place that was putting up barriers between him and his family, and he was beginning to lose patience with it. He and his brother were still practically strangers, and he would have liked to have gotten to know Kiya better, too, but at the moment it just wasn't possible. 

All the more reason that the trip to Colorado was more of a vacation than a pretend. He was taking things slow, and the game was, for the time being, on hold. He had done his bit with the postcards, now it was up to Miss Parker to look productive. It was his turn to take a time out from organizing safety nets.

'What have you got there?' a boy inquired, standing before Jarod with a basketball tucked under one arm.

'It's a photo of my mother,' Jarod explained.

'Can I see it?'

The boy, a twelve year old named Rhodry, took the extended photograph from Jarod's hand, tossing his head slightly to throw his messy blonde locks out of his face. 

'Is that a friend of hers?' he asked.

'I don't know,' Jarod said honestly. 

'Oh.'

Rhodry sat down on the bench next to Jarod and placed th ball on the ground. He pulled his hair out of his eyes a second time and stared ahead.

'Is there something wrong?' Jarod asked gently.

'No big deal.'

'Do you want to talk about it?'

'I said it's no big deal, OK?' the boy replied, somewhat harshly.

A moment later, he frowned and turned away.

'I'm sorry. Don't worry about it, it's nothing,' he said. 'I don't really want to think about it.'

Knowing better than to press the matter further, Jarod artfully changed the subject, going for something he knew would evoke a response.

'How's the basketball going?'

Rhodry was one of about ten kids that could be found at the youth centre almost every afternoon without fail. While he wasn't overly reserved, he didn't exactly open up to anyone. He skillfully dodged questions in a way that often reminded Jarod of himself; one of the reasons why the pretender was intrigued by the boy.

Just about the only thing he had wormed out of Rhodry so far was that he loved basketball. He lived and breathed the sport. Michael Jordan was his idol and it was a rare occasion that he was seen without his basketball.

'Good as always,' Rhodry said with a shrug, though lightening up. 'I have a game this weekend.'

'And I trust you've been practicing?'

'Of course.'

'Do you think you can win?' Jarod asked.

'I don't know. Our coach thinks we can, but he gets paid to say that.'

Rhodry picked up his ball and bounced it a few times on the ground in front of him.

'I've never played basketball, so I wouldn't know either way,' Jarod smiled.

'You've never played?' Rhodry asked as he stood. 'Not even as a kid?'

'No.'

'Jarod, you don't know what you're missing out on. Basketball is the king of all sports.'

'Maybe you could give me a few pointers,' Jarod suggested offhandedly.

Rhodry instantly brightened.

'Sure. Now?'

'Why not?'

Jarod tucked the photograph safely into his pocket and followed Rhodry as he crossed the small expanse of grass that lay between the bench and the courts.

'The key to basketball is getting inside your opponent's mind. Knowing what they're going to do next,' Rhodry explained, bouncing the ball a few times before moving to the left.

Jarod mimicked his stance and observed silently.

'It takes a bit of practice, but if you watch carefully, you can predict a few things.'

Rhodry moved to the right and Jarod shot forward and stole the ball off him, dodging to the left when the boy tried to counter the attack.

'You sure you've never played before?' Rhodry asked suspiciously.

'Never,' Jarod assured him. He glanced over at the hoop, then took a shot. The ball went straight in.

'I don't believe you. How can someone who's never played basketball get a shot like that? From this far back?'

'There are generally two components to all sports,' Jarod explained. 'Maths and psychics. I just happen to be good at both.'

'I'd like to keep my sport separate from my schoolwork, thanks,' Rhodry said. 'Basketball is my escape from maths.'

Jogging over to retrieve the ball, he lined himself up in front of the hoop and shot. The ball rolled around the rim a few times before dropping down through the centre.

Rhodry easily caught it on its way down.

'What goes up, must come down,' he grinned, brushing his hair away. 'And that's just about the only physics I know.'

'You can't be great at everything,' Jarod shrugged. 'But you're good at basketball, aren't you? As I said before, basketball is all maths and physics. You tell that to your teacher.'

'You're different to all the people around here,' Rhodry informed him. 'They spend so much time trying to get inside our heads... but you know just how to do it. The other counsellors are fun, but they ruin things by asking questions.'

'They're just trying to help.'

'I know, and I know they think that talking about it helps. But most of us come here to get away from our problems. Sometimes just talking about anything is better. Knowing that there's someone there _if_ you want to discuss it, or whatever.'

He threw the ball up and landed it on his index finger, spinning it and balancing it effortlessly.

'Now there's something I doubt I could do,' Jarod laughed. 'Maths and physics or not.'

'Once upon I time, I never could,' Rhodry shrugged. 'It just takes practice. Here.'

He threw the ball at Jarod, who caught it easily.

'I'll give you a game. One on one,' the boy said, running his hand through his hair.

'Alright,' Jarod agreed.

Taking up his stance, he relaxed and focused on the game, all previous concerns forgotten. He had things to sort out, but for now, they could wait.

* * *

'I am going to _kill_ that son of a -'

'Parker, is something the matter?' Sydney asked with a little amusement, appearing in the doorway.

In the height of her frustration she covered her face with her hands, blinked and breathed deeply a few times, then lowered her hands.

'No, Sid. Everything's peachy.'

'Are you sure?'

'Positive,' she said, enforcing it with a smile.

He eyed her warily a moment before speaking again.

'I was going to suggest we visit Jarod's last lair in Florida, if you were up to it,' he said.

She nodded somewhat mechanically.

'Have them get the chopper ready, and if you see Lyle, tell him I want him in here. Now. And find Broots. Where the hell has he gotten to?' she asked, jerking back to reality when she realised it had been awhile since she had seen the tech.

'I,' Sydney shrugged, 'don't know.'

'Well find him. He and I need to have words,' she replied, moving over to the window. 

When she glanced backwards a few moments later, Sydney was gone.

She had lied when she had told him everything was fine. In all truth, she was mad. Very, very mad.

Lyle, not for the first time, had her seeing red. And she was adamant that he was going to feel the full force of her wrath. For all she cared at that moment in time, Jarod could go and blow up the entire universe and she wouldn't lift a finger to stop him - just as long as she got to her brother first.

'I hope you know who you're messing with,' she informed him icily as she sensed him entering the room.

'What have I done to set you off this time?' he asked with a sigh.

'Inertia with a capital I, Lyle. You're haven't done anything different to normal; except this time you screwed up. I found out about it.'

'How long is this going to take? Because I actually have to be -'

'Shut up,' she hissed, jabbing a finger at him. 'Just shut up.'

She massaged her forehead wearily before turning on him again, trying to ease the oncoming migraine.

'You want to know what you did? You _advised_ Dr Frankenstein to have baby brother relocated. It was all your doing. And now, you're going to tell me where he was moved to before I relocate you to Renewal Wing,' she growled dangerously.

'I had nothing to do with that,' he said waspishly.

'I have the DSA,' she ground out in a low tone. 'Now where is he?'

'I wouldn't have a clue. I haven't seen him in over a year. Almost two.'

'Why did you tell Raines to move him?'

'Because I thought you were spending too much time with him. Getting attached. You know how much this place hates distractions,' he shot snidely.

Ignoring the cruel remark, she continued on testily, the throbbing in her head only shortening her patience.

'I'm going to find out where he is,' she informed him. 'And there's not a thing you can do to stop me.'

'Somehow I don't agree with that,' Lyle returned.

'There is no way I am going to let this place stand between me and another family member,' she spat. 'God knows he's one of the few sane branches of the family tree.'

'I'm wounded, sis.'

'Good. Fester and fall off,' she said coldly. 'Then I'll be one less bough away from the other non-psychopathic relative of mine. Because I mean it, Lyle. You touch Ethan and you will pay. I'll be out in a minute, Sid,' she added, not even having to look over at the door to know Sydney was there. Her Inner Sense seemed to be running full throttle. The doctor nodded and backed out of the room.

'You just make sure you watch your back,' she told Lyle. 'Because there's quite a few things that haven't been adding up lately, and you'll be surprised to know how many fingers are pointing right in your direction.'

Her eyes locked his for a moment, daring him to challenge her.

'And I'd be careful when dealing with awry assassination attempts,' she added coolly. 'If I find out you're connected to them in any way, you'd better be hoping it's third time lucky.' 

She shot him a look that clearly said that the topic was closed and he was being dismissed. He swallowed, and she watched with satisfaction as his Adam's apple bobbed somewhat hesitantly. Busying herself with tidying her desk, she didn't look up until he had been gone a good minute.

Another sigh escaped and she rubbed her temples tiredly, wanting nothing more than to go home and relax in the bath, preferably with a nice strong drink.

Remembering what she had told Sydney, she holstered her gun and stepped out of the office, finding the older man waiting faithfully just outside the door.

'Is everything alright, Parker?' he asked gently.

'I'm fine. Where's Broots?'

'He's meeting us outside. Are you sure you're up to this?'

'It's just a headache, Sid. Nothing an aspirin can't fix,' she said, despite the fact that, owing to medical conditions, she couldn't take them.

'I meant returning to Florida so soon after the ordeal,' he said, giving her a knowing look, which she brushed off.

'So a building blew up, and I was in it. Nothing new,' she said dryly, starting towards the elevator. Sydney followed her.

'I fear that all this stress is getting too much for you, Parker. Just promise me that after this you'll slow down and let yourself recover from the emotional and physical ramifications of what happened.'

'Don't start with the big, psychological words, Sid. My brain's working double shifts as it is, and the new resident boom box isn't helping.'

The elevator doors opened and she stepped inside, throwing her hair over her shoulder and smoothing out her clothes.

'No sweepers,' she said abruptly. 'We know for sure that Jarod is no longer in Florida, so I don't want any of the Men in Black wannabes hanging around. No one is to know the specifics. There's the slight possibility that Ethan might still be in the neighbourhood and I'm not taking any risks.'

'I've arranged for the helicopter to take Broots, yourself and I to Florida. No one else.'

She nodded curtly in reply.

Her mind was elsewhere and she really wasn't in the mood to be barking orders at sweepers. In all truth she never was, but she was in such a state of annoyance at that moment that she was nearing her wit's end.

It had been almost two years since she had seen either of her half brothers - more than, in the case of the youngest. In both instances, it had everything to do with the Centre. Now that she had discovered that Lyle had made the suggestion for Master Parker to be moved, she had been supplied with a scapegoat at which she could vent all her frustration - and it looked like Lyle was in for it tenfold. She had vowed from the very beginning that the newest addition to the Parker family was never going to become another science experiment. From the sound of it, the oath had already been broken, but there was no doubt in her mind that the minute she found out where he was she was going to march in there and remedy that fact. 

The elevator doors slid open and she polished up her frosty exterior, ready to take on whatever the heavens were about to throw at her. With eyebrows raised in an aloof manner, she turned to Sydney.

'Shall we?'

* * *

Jarod sighed and leaned back in his chair, casting a defeated look at the map he had up on the computer screen.

While Ethan had been able to give him equivocal directions as to where his father was hiding, there was no direct pinpoint as to their location. The ambiguity was not his fault, Jarod knew; Ethan had deliberately absorbed as little detail as to where they were staying so as not to pose a threat to their security by holding information on their position. In the case that he was to fall into the wrong hands, namely the Centre, there would be no real danger of him exposing them.

Although this was great news as far as their well being was concerned, it didn't help Jarod's current situation any. 

Deciding to take a break, he closed the window and instead brought up the youth centre's home page, relaxing and browsing the site with mild interest.

'What you doing?' Rhodry asked, coming up behind Jarod's chair. At his side was his friend Ben, another regular keen on basketball, thought not quite to the degree that Rhodry was.

'Just looking,' Jarod replied, swivelling around in his chair. 'Did you want to use the computer?'

Rhodry shook his head.

'Computers don't interest me much,' he answered with a shrug. 'We just come to see what you were doing.'

Jarod nodded.

'How are you going, Ben?'

'Alright,' the other boy replied.

'Are you two going on the camping trip?' Jarod asked.

Ben shook his head.

'I am,' Rhodry said. 'Are you going?'

'I let Greg talk me into coming,' Jarod smiled, referring to one of the counsellors. 'I've never been camping before.'

'Never?' Ben asked, surprised. 'Didn't your dad ever take you?'

Jarod sighed and scratched the back of his neck.

'I didn't see my father much when I was young.'

'That sucks,' Ben said. 'My dad takes me all the time.'

'I've heard about some of the activities they have planned. It sounds like a lot of fun.'

Noticing that Rhodry had fallen strangely quiet, Jarod decided to shift the subject a little.

'How was school today?'

'Boring,' Rhodry supplied. 'I hate Tuesdays.'

'You hate every day other than Friday,' Ben pointed out. 'And weekends. Because you don't have sport on any of the other days.'

'I don't like school at all. Sport's only fun when we play basketball.'

Ben glanced down at his watch before looking back up. He passed the ball that had been nestled under his arm to Rhodry.

'I have to go,' he said. 'I have to be home by four thirty.'

'OK,' Rhodry said. 'See you.'

'Bye,' Jarod added.

'Yeah. See you tomorrow.'

Once Ben had left, Rhodry pulled up a seat next to Jarod and flipped his hair out of his face.

'So you've really never been camping?'

'I've done something similar,' Jarod shrugged. 'Orienteering. But I think this is going to be a little different.'

'For sure. There's so much to do when you're camping... campfires, marshmallows...'

'Marshmallows?'

'You know, the pink and white squishy things that you toast over a fire? Christ, Jarod. Did you live under a rock or something?'

'No,' he replied, eyes darkening a little. 'Somewhere far less civilized.'

'Jarod, my friend, stick with me and you won't go wrong. You have a lot to learn.'

'So I'm continually finding out,' the pretender replied with amusement.

'My dad never took me camping, either,' Rhodry admitted a moment later.

Jarod cocked his head with interest, encouraging him to continue, though only if he felt comfortable in doing so.

'I've been camping with friends, and with the youth group here, but not with my dad. He lives in California. I don't see him very often.'

'Are your parents divorced?' Jarod asked.

Rhodry nodded.

'When I was three. I've never really known any other way.'

'You and I have a lot in common, it seems,' Jarod smiled.

'We should stick together,' Rhodry concurred, nodding. 'And I can teach you all about marshmallows and basketball.'

'Sounds like a plan,' Jarod replied, a warm smile still present on his face. 'And maybe I could help you out with your maths, if you wanted.'

'Maybe we'll leave the maths for some other time,' Rhodry replied, grimacing. 'Camping is supposed to be _fun_. I know, I know,' he added, before Jarod could say anything. 'Basketball is all maths and physics. But if maths was half as fun ask basketball, maybe I'd be a little more enthusiastic.'

Feeling instantaneously happier at having progressed somewhat with Rhodry, Jarod's previous feeling exasperation towards tracking down his father evaporated. 

'You know, I was looking at information regarding this camping trip,' Jarod began, 'and it says down the bottom here that no mobile phones or CD players are allowed.'

'Uh-huh,' Rhodry confirmed. 'The counsellors say that the whole point of camping is to get away from technology and spend time with nature, yadda, yadda, yadda. Why, got a problem with it?'

'Nothing major,' Jarod answered. 'I'll just have to take time out from a few phone calls.'

'Who?' Rhodry smirked. 'Your girlfriend?'

Jarod glanced at the boy with amusement.

'Not quite.'

'Well, whoever it is, I'm sure you'll be too busy to talk to them. The counsellors always have us up at the crack of dawn to give us some nature lesson.'

'Yes, they certainly do have a lot planned,' Jarod agreed. 'It looks like it's going to be a busy week.'

'I'd sleep in as much as you can in the next three days because believe me, you won't be getting much beauty rest, J-man. What?' he asked in reply to the slightly taken aback look that flittered across Jarod's features.

'Someone I know... they used to call me that.'

'Someone good, I hope.'

'Argyle grows on you,' the pretender said wryly.

'This trip is going to be so much fun,' Rhodry informed him. 'We're going somewhere different to normal.'

'So it will be something new for both of us, then.'

'Yep. And instead of the counsellors trying to teach me something, I get to teach one of the counsellors something,' he continued, pushing his hair away from his eyes.

'I'm sure the counsellors learn something new from you every day.'

Rhodry shuddered.

'Now you're starting to sound like my maths teacher.'

Jarod smiled again, feeling true contentment for the first time since the incident in Florida. This time off was going to do him good.

'I know, I know - no more maths, right?'

Rhodry grinned.

'Right.'

* * *

'Be free... be cool... be you,' Parker cooed patronizingly at Broots. 'What, did you get dressed in the dark this morning?'

The tech looked downcast as he glanced at his shirt; a Hawaiian that was obviously far too loud for her liking. 

'Well, no...'

'Believe me, whatever image you were going for, you missed,' she informed him, sliding into the helicopter. 'You look like a reincarnation of the Village People.'

She snatched a pair of sunglasses off him and put them on.

Sydney shot him a condoling look, and Broots immediately understood that she was in one of her moods.

'Where have you been, anyway?' she demanded. 'I wanted to know if you'd found me anything new on Parallax.'

'Not yet, Miss Parker,' he sighed. 'Or the DSA's of SL-27. I still haven't managed to pinpoint where they've been relocated to.'

'Don't talk to me about relocation,' she growled in annoyance. 'Just make sure you get them soon, and before Dr Evil finds out what you're up to. I've had enough of being in the dark.'

* * *

It was only days after she had last been in Florida, and yet, with winter coming to an end, the weather was already noticeably warmer.

She stopped to survey her surroundings when she stepped out of the black sedan and onto the concrete driveway.

'Let's take a look inside, shall we?' she asked coolly, raising an eyebrow.

The two men followed her up to the door as she pressed the bell, not overly surprised when Ethan answered the door.

'Ethan,' she said, a smile taking over her mouth for the first time in what seemed like years. 'What are you still doing here?'

'Waiting for you,' he replied, stepping back from the doorway. 'I had a feeling you would be coming.'

'Well,' she said, raising her palms, 'here I am. Sid, you two have met. Broots, Ethan. Computer junkie, little brother number two.'

'Hello,' Ethan greeted, acknowledging them both with a nod.

'Hi,' Broots answered, glancing sideways at Sydney, who simply recognized Ethan with a tilt of the head.

'I hear you and Jarod have been playing happy families,' Parker commented, inviting herself inside. Noticing the awkward look that crossed her brother's face, she put her hand up. 'Don't worry. I'm not even going to ask you where he went,' she sighed. 'If he even told you.'

Ethan shook his head.

'No. The last time I saw Jarod was when he went out looking for you. I went out to try and find him, but when I returned from the annex he had gone. I was more concerned for you. I was told you were admitted to hospital, but I didn't want to risk visiting, in case there were sweepers. Apparently, they're after me again.'

'Raines wants you back,' she confirmed. 'As for me, it's going to take a lot more than an explosion to take this tiger down. They should know by now that nobody dies at the Centre.'

'Our mother did,' Ethan said quietly.

'Only the innocents,' she replied softly. 'Which I am far from. Then again, I suppose anyone is a saint next to Raines and his beast brigade.'

In an attempt to pull away from the disheartening topic, her pale blue eyes scanned over the room; taking in the couch and television, the pictures on the wall.

'What is this place, on rent?' she asked.

'It belongs to a friend of Jarod's,' Ethan supplied. 'I was told to stay as long as I liked. I figured that since the Centre would probably know Jarod had left Florida, it would be the safest place to be for the moment.'

'Smart move. Just about the only thing we know for sure about his current whereabouts is that it isn't here. Then again, that means nothing. Lyle was only just digging up a lead from a couple of months ago,' she said dryly, rolling her eyes. 'But with his microscopic brain I think it's safe to say he is, for the most part, incompetent. When one takes his current euphoric state into consideration, anyway. I'm beginning to wonder if Raines has been slipping happy pills into his coffee.'

'He was surprisingly unfazed when he stepped out of your office earlier,' Sydney agreed.

'When we get back I guess I'll have to rectify that, won't I?' she asked wryly, stepping into the kitchen.

'You guys have been living light,' she commented. 'I didn't know you were such a health nut.'

'Nothing to do with me. I've just gone with what Jarod had here,' Ethan replied.

_Liar, liar_, her subconscious screamed at her. _That doesn't add up_.

Ignoring it on the basis that she refused to believe that her brother would lie to her, she closed the refrigerator.

'Broots, don't even bother getting comfortable,' she warned, and the tech sprang away from the couch he had been about to sit on.

'You can't stay long,' Ethan noted, perching on the back of a chair.

'No,' she answered, her tone losing its edge. 'As much as I wish we could hang around, we should probably be getting back before someone's presence is missed.'

'Parker, we just got here -' Sydney began.

'And now we have to leave,' she interrupted. 'Ethan, it was wonderful seeing you.'

She flashed him one of her rare, genuine smiles before turning to her accomplices.

'Gentlemen?'

'Goodbye,' Ethan said, straightening up. 'I hope you find whatever you're looking for.'

'No you don't,' she contradicted, pausing and turning the side of her face to him. 'But thanks anyway.'

'I don't mean Jarod,' he told her. 'I mean what you're really looking for.'

She met his eyes and for a moment, no one spoke.

'Look after yourself, little brother,' was all she said, before turning on her heel and letting herself out.

* * *

'Are you going to tell me what that was about?' Sydney asked calmly once they were back on the road.

She glanced sideways at him, her blue eyes shielded from the white hot sun by the sunglasses she had taken from Broots earlier. Her gaze moved back to the road and she took a smooth turn before answering him.

'You tell me, Freud, and then we'll both know,' she replied tiredly, back to her usual aloof self. Noticing the look on his face, and realising that he wasn't going to be brushed off that easily, she sighed.

'I couldn't snoop around while he was there. I didn't even want to ask him anything, because I didn't want him to think I was expecting me to tell him something.'

'That's perfectly understandable, Parker.'

'Do you think Raines would say that if he knew that ten minutes ago I possibly had the means to track down the pretender he's been after for six years, not to mention another runaway project that he's equally interested in?'

'But Miss Parker,' Broots interjected. 'He doesn't have to know. Does he?'

'Needing to know and knowing are two very different concepts, Broots,' she returned.

She took another corner, this time with more aggression. While her life was far from mundane, it did consist of the same things, day in, day out - and it had a tendency to try her patience on many occasions. 

'There has to be someone around here that we can talk to that isn't my brother,' she said after a minute of silence, slamming her hand down on the wheel in frustration.

'I highly doubt that Jarod would have told anyone where he planned to go,' Sydney said gently. 'Especially if he left without mentioning it to Ethan.'

'No, but they might be able to tell us a little about the company he's been keeping.' 

'I don't follow, Parker.'

'They weren't alone, Sid,' she informed him. 'There was a female staying in that apartment.'

The doctor looked at her curiously, though skepticism was evident in his features.

'Think about it. That house was full of fruit and vegetables and all things lean cuisine. Jarod hasn't eaten an ounce of health food since he broke out.'

'Ethan was in the house, too,' Broots pointed out.

'But Ethan told us that it was what Jarod had left,' she reminded them. 'Besides, that place was way too clean. I know them both well enough to tell you that there is no way they could keep that apartment that clean for as long as they've been staying in it. Jarod's never had a problem with leaving his gadgets all over the place in the past. Just trust me on this one. I can feel it. I _know_.'

'Parker, if you're so sure,' Sydney asked, 'why didn't you ask Ethan about it?'

She glanced in the rearview mirror before meeting the doctor's eyes. She had the feeling he already knew the answer, but she gave it to him anyway.

'Because if I'd asked him, I know he would've answered, and he'd have told me the truth. I don't want him to feel obligated to telling me anything, because he's not. He has every right to want to protect Jarod and I'm not going to ask him to betray his family.'

Sydney smiled his annoyingly unreadable smile at her and she looked back to the road, able to guess, for once, exactly what he was smiling at.

'Broots, when we pull over, I want you to go buy a newspaper. Go into the store and look for a back issue that might have something to do with Jarod. Sid, you can organise lunch,' she commanded, turning into a car park outside of a general store. 'I don't know about you two, but I'm famished.'

'W-what are you going to do, Miss Parker?' Broots ventured.

She slid out of the car and shut the door with a quiet but defined click, searching her pockets for something.

'I'm going to have a cigarette.'

* * *

'It's very beautiful out here,' Jarod commented, taking in the scenery of the camping grounds.

'I guess,' Rhodry shrugged. 'Completely different to the city, anyway.'

'Yes,' the pretender concurred. 'Very different.'

He paused to adjust his pack, and Rhodry slowed down to wait for him. Somewhere nearby a bird's whistle echoed through the trees.

'Just you wait,' the boy warned. 'One of the counsellors will start in a minute.' He adjusted his tone and adopted an accent. '_And over to our right, we have a very rare specimen of the coconut honey eater..._'

Jarod smiled.

'Surely this trip isn't going to be as bad as you're making out.'

'I never said it was going to be bad,' Rhodry grinned. 'But believe me, by the end of the week, you'll be sick of Greg and Krista and Luke. They start to get on your nerves.'

'Why Rhodry, we never knew we were so horrible,' Krista said with amusement, falling into step beside them.

Rhodry didn't even bat an eyelid.

'Krista, you turn into museum curators. We come on these things to get away from school,' he pointed out.

The counsellor laughed and poked Rhodry in the side playfully, flicking her long brown hair over her shoulder.

'We have to teach you something while you're out here. It's part of the agreement,' she said. 'Isn't that right, Jarod?'

'That's right,' he agreed. 'You have to learn things, or there would be no point in coming.'

'Not even just for fun?' Rhodry asked, one eyebrow raised.

'Fun and learning go hand in hand, Mr Everson,' Krista grinned. 

'Someone needs to tell my teachers that,' he grumbled.

'You wouldn't happen to have something against teachers would you, Rhod? Because your good friend Jarod here happens to be an ex-teacher,' Krista said, bending down to remove a twig that had become tangled in her shoelace.

'You never told me that,' Rhodry complained. 'Why can't you come and teach my class?'

'Because at the moment, I'm trekking through the bush to a campsite so we can set up some tents,' Jarod replied, amused.  

'We'll be there soon. Then we can sit down and have some lunch,' Krista said.

'What is for lunch?' Rhodry asked suspiciously. 'You didn't make it, did you?'

She laughed and exchanged a glance with Jarod.

'I wound up burning breakfast one year. The kids haven't let me forget it,' she explained.

'Well you can rest at ease, because Greg and I made lunch,' Jarod said. 'Salad rolls.'

'See? Health food. Please tell me you brought marshmallows,' Rhodry pleaded.

'Of course. What's camping without marshmallows? Jarod insisted,' Krista smirked.

'And so he should. Though I'm surprised he knows what they are,' the boy commented, giving his head a flick, sending his blonde locks bouncing. 'Can you believe he doesn't know what Spotlight is?'

'No?' Krista asked. 'We'll have to fix that, won't we? I'm sure Greg's got a game planned for tonight.'

She looked to Jarod for confirmation, and he nodded.

'I'm looking forward to it,' he supplied.

Krista pulled a water bottle out of her pack and unscrewed the lid to take a drink. After replacing the cap and putting it away, she jumped up onto a log and peered ahead.

'There we are,' she said, pointing. 'About a hundred metres in that direction.'

'Is that where we're staying?' a girl named Sascha asked as she and a few others, including Rhodry, joined Krista on the log.

'Indeed it is. Home for the next week.'

'It's pretty out here,' the Sascha commented.

'If we're lucky, we'll see some bears,' Greg said solemnly, coming up behind them.

'Will not,' quite a few argued.

'Greg's just delusional,' Luke said dismissively, taking his cap from his head and holding it to his chest. 'He means lions.'

Krista rolled her eyes.

'What have we all stopped for? Let's go set up.'

Jarod couldn't help but smile, feeling very much like he was in for an enjoyable time.

* * *

'Have you seen this man anywhere?'

Parker slid her sunglasses onto the top of her head and passed the photograph over the counter to the store owner, casting a glance over at Broots, who was over in the corner by a magazine rack. The man glanced at it, then handed it back.

'Sure, that's Jarod. The taxi driver. He came in here often with his daughter. Nice guy. The name's Jed, by the way.'

She threw a triumphant look at Sydney before returning her attention to the store owner, raising an eyebrow.

'Daughter?'

'Pretty thing. Late teens, I'd say. You his wife?' Jed asked conversationally.

Sydney gave a small cough, no doubt to conceal laughter. A broad smile refused to leave his lips, and was answered with an icy glare.

'What makes you ask?' Parker queried with fake geniality.

The man shrugged.

'The girl looked an awful lot like you, that's all. But if you're wanting to see them, you're too late. They left a couple of days ago.'

'We know. We're trying to find out where they went,' she replied.

'Can't help you there. They never did say.'

'There's something new,' she commented with sarcastic enthusiasm. 'So, lab rat has a new girlfriend. But I must say, Jarod, isn't this one a little young?' 

She pocketed the picture of the pretender and walked over to the magazine rack, grabbing Broots by the shoulder.

'Come on, Fido. In the car,' she said.

'But Miss Parker -'

'When I want your opinion, I'll give it to you. Now let's go,' she hissed. 'Coming, Sid?'

He nodded, putting the brochure he had been reading back on its stand before following her outside to the car. She dropped her cigarette and pushed it into the dirt with her shoe, taking the time to lower her sunglasses, then slide gracefully into the front seat.

'What did you get from it, Sydney?' she asked with a sigh, resting her hands on the steering wheel.

'From the sounds of it, project Parallax has caught up with Jarod.'

'That, or Jarod has caught up with project Parallax,' she mused. 'Either way, things just turned interesting.'

'But if he knew who she was, why would he be helping her?' Broots asked.

'He defends the weak and abused,' she said, a dry smile on her lips. 'And in his eyes, the Centre is the abuse capital of the world.'

'You're right, Parker. This is too close to home for him,' Sydney agreed, hand on his chin.

'So what now?' Broots asked.

'We find the girl,' she said, pushing the key into the ignition. 'And hopefully, we find Jarod.'

* * *

There was something about being away from the city, something about nature, that Jarod had always loved. Being somewhere that he could feel the sun on his back or the rain on his face. Where he could hear the birds and see flowers blooming. All the things that he had been deprived of as a child.

And then there was just the whole freedom of it all. The fact that, no matter how hard they tried, the Centre could never really control nature. Control when the wind blew and when the snow fell. It did as it wished, and although it was quite easily harmed and destroyed by humans, it was never _tamed, _and never would be.

He titled his head back to look at the stars. There were so many, away from the bright lights of the city. Millions of twinkling dots scattered across the sky like specs of glitter on a sheet of blue velvet. The gibbous moon hung high above, shedding its eerie light over what lay below.

Something that Kiya had said came to mind.

_I'd look up at the moon and I'd feel safe, because for that moment it was like I wasn't alone anymore. Like I was sharing a moment with my family, because everyone sees the same moon, right? But now I know it's stupid to think that someone was out there looking for me._

'No,' he sighed to himself, remembering. 'It's not stupid at all.'

A slight rustle to his left caught his attention, and he turned to see Krista sidling through some bushes.

'What are you doing out here, mountaineer?' she asked, coming to sit beside him on a moss-covered log.

'Watching. Listening. Thinking,' he shrugged.

'Well, there's a certain someone back at camp looking for you. Everyone's in for a game of Spotlight and I think Mr Everson is waiting to teach you the rules.'

'Yes,' Jarod replied, smiling. 'He promised me he would.'

'Plus, there's marshmallows,' she added, 'but who cares about those?'

'Hot chocolate, by any chance?'

'Of course.'

'You've talked me into it,' he laughed.

'Get a move on then,' she pressed, surprising him by kissing him on the cheek and getting to her feet. 'People are waiting.'

He observed her a moment, not quite knowing to think. He then stood, brushing off his jeans before taking a last quick glance around and following her back through the trees, the light of the campfire glowing like a beacon not too far away.

* * *

The remainder of the trip passed without event. While it was a relaxing relief to be without a murder or kidnapping or some similar scandal to be deciphering, he found himself constantly on alert, as if waiting for something to happen. But nothing did, and he ended up having one of the most entertaining weeks of his life. 

Nonetheless, he wasn't too bothered when it came to an end. A strong bout of wanderlust seemed to be taking hold, and he found himself possessed with the unexplainable desire to move. Nothing had happened to trigger such a feeling. Somehow he sensed it had something to do with finding his family rather than avoiding the Centre, and was quite happy to give into the longing to leave Colorado, just as soon as he finished what he had started.

'You make sure you keep up your basketball, alright?' 

'Jarod, that is a stupid question,' Rhodry replied. 

Jarod smiled.

'It was, wasn't it?' he asked.

'Only a little. You've said stranger things. Like not knowing what Spotlight is.'

'Ah, but I can't say that any more, can I?'

'I suppose not,' Rhodry said.

'And just remember, whenever you start thinking you're not good at school...'

'That basketball is all maths and physics. I know,' the boy grinned.

He turned his hand into a fist and bumped it against Jarod's.

'Have fun in... where is it you're going?'

'I think I'll head south for the summer,' Jarod answered.

'For the summer? Geese head south in the winter, J-man, I hate to tell you.'

'I'm not a goose though, am I?'

'I don't know. That could be debatable,' Krista teased, approaching. 

Jarod looked back to Rhodry.

'Maybe we'll meet again someday,' he offered.

'In Chicago,' Rhodry agreed. 'When I'm a superstar.'

'I'll come to your game. You'll have to give me your autograph.'

'No problem.'

Rhodry glanced back at the car where his mother was waiting, reading to take him home.

'I think you're mom's ready to,' Jarod said.

He nodded.

'Bye, Jarod.'

'Goodbye. Good luck.'

'Thanks!' Rhodry called back, pausing to wave before getting into the car.

Krista and Jarod waved back.

'He's a good kid,' Krista commented.

'He is,' Jarod agreed, his eyes following the blue car as it pulled out of the parking lot.

'I still wish I could talk you into staying,' she ventured.

'And I wish I could stay,' he replied. 'But I can't.'

'Wherever your journeys may take you, stick with what you do, Jarod. You have a talent. You worked wonders with Rhodry. He's opened up so much since you've been here.'

'We had a lot in common,' was the reply.

She nodded. After a short hesitation, she leaned up, placed her hands on either side of his face and pressed her lips against his. When she drew back, she was smiling.

'Good luck, Jarod. Maybe I'll see you at that game in Chicago one day,' she said. 'You never know.'

* * *

It was nearing five o'clock as a man with greyed hair moved about his office, finalizing his day's work. A desk, scattered with papers, craved his attention.

The task was delayed, however, when the phone rang.

'This is Sydney.'

'Somebody once said that too many people miss the silver lining because they're too busy looking for gold. Do you believe that, Sydney?'

The doctor relaxed back in his chair, smiling at the sound of his protégé's voice.

'I believe that a lot of people take the wonderful things in this life for granted. There are so many that don't realise the simple beauty of a flower in bloom, or the sun setting of an evening.'

'I recently spent some time amongst nature, and I have to say that I haven't felt so at peace in a long time,' Jarod replied.

'Nature is an amazing thing, Jarod. It is so full of life and intrigue. I'm not surprised that it has left you feeling refreshed.'

There was a pause on the other end, and a sound that could have been a bus or train.

'Maybe, one day, we could go camping together. And spend some time with nature.'

A beep signified the end of the conversation, and Sydney lowered the receiver, a serene expression on his features.

Jarod sighed, slipping his cell phone into his jacket pocket. And with that, the pretender stepped lightly onto the bus, a sad smile resting on his lips and reaching up to his eyes.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

***gasp* Jarod went the WHOLE CHAPTER without talking to Miss Parker. How on earth will he survive? **

**Then again, I got to write some ****Sydney****. I do enjoy writing ****Sydney****. Jarod needs to interact with ****Sydney**** more often. *nods***

**Anyway, there goes another chapter. A rather insignificant one that took a strangely long time, but most of them will seem like that until we get further into the story and they are all pulled in together.**

**BTW, I've finished the storyboarding for the sequel, _Dance of Souls._ For those of you that liked the J/MP shared screen time... you'll like it :) The whole story is practically a lot of bogus attempts at trying to work together... most of them ending with Miss P spitting the dummy and basically threatening to kill him (though we all know otherwise). It will also give you your J/MP romance fix... this story will have some, of course, but it doesn't last long. DoS will be much more satisfying in that area.**

**For the moment DoS is going to be the final installment, but when it's all over I might go and do a third one just for the sake of closure, which will most probably be necessary since I love ambiguous endings :)**

**For the time being, there's still twenty three chapters of this ahead of me, so perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself. I just had to plan it all out so I know what I'm doing.**

**Reviews would be greatly appreciated.**

**SezZie**

**Thank you to:**

**Sauron764: I'm not really a pretender, I'm just pretending to be one... :S hmm...**

**Carnie**

**Dale**

**Claire**

**Tara**

**_NEXT TIME, ON THE PRETENDER..._**

**_Taking The Cat's Way Home_**

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**_Jarod sets off in search of his father and runs into an old friend along the way. Meanwhile, Miss Parker uncovers more secrets about Parallax, and focuses her attentions on tracking down Kiya..._**

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**It's leading up to one of three major climaxes in the story. (What's that? A plot? ::gasp::)**

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	8. Chapter VIII: Sub Rosa

 SEQ CHAPTER h r 1**The Saddest Little Valentine**

**Summary: **The biggest game of cat and mouse just got bigger. The stakes are higher - lives are on the line this time around, and someone else is after Jarod... or so it seems. Who are they, and can they be worse than the Centre?

**Rating: **PG13

**Chronology:** Post-IotH.

**Genre:** General/Action/Adventure... you name it, we got it.

**Disclaimer: **Are you the author? I am today. Except I'm only pretending...

**Chapter VIII - Sub Rosa**

_As a little girl she had always wanted a twin. Someone she could share her every thought with. A best friend that was always there, even at night time, when the imagination can get carried away. She'd fall asleep imagining what she'd look like. What her name would be. _

_She often sat alone, just wondering who exactly she really was and whether or not her life truly held any meaning. The dreams were recurring and it had been a long time since she had received a good night's sleep as a result of them. She felt as if she were missing her other half; her other puzzle piece... and without it, she would never feel complete again._

_For a long time, it had been her mother that occupied that place. But as her mother was torn away from her, so was her innocence, leaving her alone in the big scheme of things, without anyone to fill the dark void that eventually began to control her. _

_More than anything, she wanted to close that gap. To allow someone into her heart to make amends. But the sun had not shined for so long that her hopes began to fade. Though she never let go._

_Most days, it was the fantasy that someone so perfectly right for her was out there that got her by._

_          - Jarod Heart, The Saddest Little Valentine, chapter eight. _

'Have you seen this man?' Parker asked in a bored manner, handing a photograph to the classily dressed desk clerk at the Ivyledge Hotel. 'He may have been staying with a young girl. Tall, brunette.'

'I'm terribly sorry, Miss, but we are unable to disclose information about any of our customers,' he replied, rapping his fingers on the desk.

'What a shame,' she answered before flashing a smile at the bellboy. 'Take a picture. It'll last longer.'

She stepped back and turned around to leave. Broots, confused at her easy defeat, called after her.

'That's it? But Miss Parker -'

'Miss Parker?' interrupted the clerk, loosening somewhat. 'Please forgive me. Mr Crown advised me in advance that you would be coming by. In fact, he asked me to give you this.'

He reached down under the desk and produced a cardboard box. He set it down and slid it towards her, placing a set of keys on top of it.

'Eighth floor. Penthouse suite. He informed us that you would clean out his belongings on his behalf and check out. As for the brunette; I can't help you there. Mr Crown was always alone. Although he did want to send out his heartfelt apologies for missing you. Some other engagements called for his presence, and he had to leave unexpectedly,' the man explained.

'I'll bet he did,' Parker said, picking up the box and depositing it on Broots.

The tech was startled by the weight, and stumbled slightly.

'Watch it,' she hissed, heading for the elevator, her two accomplices not far behind.

'Wow,' Broots commented once they had stepped into the room.

The door opened to reveal a regally decorated interior, decked out in white and gold. A window stretched from floor to ceiling on the west wall, and an exquisite wooden bed was positioned to the north. The coverlet, like the carpet, was a snowy white.

'What's the matter, Broots? Never been in a five star hotel before?'

'Well actually, no,' he admitted. 'And the penthouse suite? Miss Parker, I've only ever seen them in movies!'

'Now why doesn't that surprise me?' she asked dryly.

'This is an... interesting change for Jarod,' Sydney said, speaking up for the first time. 'He doesn't usually choose to stay in places of such elegance.'

'From rags to riches,' Parker remarked. 'It _is_ an interesting change, though I wonder what has brought it on. Especially since rat boy seemed to have taken a liking to cubby houses closer in era to the cavemen lately. If you ask me, Sid, your boy has seen _Pretty Woman_ one too many times.'

'Jarod's lack of contact recently is telling me that perhaps he is treating himself to a vacation,' the accented doctor told her, his hand on his chin in thought. 'Some time away from the Centre.'

'Yeah. _On_ the Centre,' Broots said, eyes wide as he handed Parker the slip of paper that held the details to the room that had been left on the bedside stand. 'It seems that Jarod decided to chase up some old debts. He's charged it to Centre funds, and look at it all...'

'A few nights spent in the lap of luxury doesn't even begin to make up for a lifetime at the Centre,' Parker justified distractedly, running her fingers over the engraved headboard of the king sized bed. 'And all the riches in the world couldn't hold a candle to what he really wants.'

'What's that?' Broots asked, thrown by her sudden display of empathy.

'His family. His freedom. A chance at life,' Sydney said. 'Everything that the Centre stole from him.'

A strange silence passed over the three of them that confused them all. Breaking out of her reverie and moving away from the fancy bed to stand at Sydney's side by the window, Parker swallowed and disturbed the quiet.

'Look at us, standing here feeling sorry for him,' she said, amused at the irony of it all. 'He's the one living in a first class world of splendor, free to do as he pleases while we're stuck traipsing across the country trying to track him down. Am I the only one that sees something wrong with this picture?'

She wasn't even going to deny she believed Jarod deserved more than what he had. Her actions and words had communicated more than she could take back. Times had changed and the cold front that she channeled from all the envy and spite she harbored for the pretender was no longer quite as convincing as it had been in the past, when it had been so much easier to despise him. Whether or not she wanted to admit it, something had happened in Scotland. Something that had opened her eyes. She just wasn't ready to look yet.

While she had spoken, briefly, with Sydney about Carthis, she had left many of the major points out of her story, including her... encounter with Jarod. There was no way in hell she was telling him about _that_ particular detail. The psychiatrist would have a field day, for sure, and she would never hear the end of it. She had no doubts in her mind that finding out what had happened - or, more accurately, what had been about to happen - would leave Sydney tickled pink and walking down the corridors whistling and saying, 'I told you so.' It was either that or a very long lecture on the emotional ramifications of their actions, and she didn't quite know which would be worse.

Despite her failing to mention it in an attempt to dissuade him from asking questions, she knew her obvious reluctance to discuss the topic had left Sydney to draw his own assumptions of what had transpired, something that scared her. Sydney was often aware of much more than he ever let on, which meant it was highly possible he had a good idea of the events on the island. And there was also the fact that Jarod could have quite easily relayed the entire situation to his mentor, though she had reason to believe otherwise.

'Jarod may have gotten the worse end of the deal, but he wasn't the only one that had his life, family and freedom ripped from him,' she said quietly, detaching herself at the thought.

'Miss Parker...'

'I'm fine, Sid,' she said, removing his hand from her shoulder.

She took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose and looking heavenward.

'Are you sure, Parker? Something seems to be bothering you,' Sydney pressed, eyes narrowed incisively.

'I'm just tired,' she insisted. 'I haven't been sleeping well these past few nights. Let's just... let's just get this over and done with.'

'Do you want to talk about it?'

She glanced at him, her ice blue eyes idiosyncratically aloof, showing only a small amount of the inner conflict they masked. Her gaze was neither frosty nor heated.

'No. Not now. Not here,' she replied eventually, turning away. 'Like I said, I'm just tired.'

Sydney nodded and backed off, though dissatisfied with her response. Something was troubling her, and had been doing so ever since she had returned from Carthis. He wished she would tell him what, but he knew better than to push her too hard lest she shut him out completely.

'What's in the box?' she asked Broots, massaging her brow.

'I, uh... I don't know,' he said, moving over to the foot of the bed where he had left it and lifting the flaps. 'Oh, wow. I haven't seen one of these things since I was a kid.'

He pulled out the contents of the package; an oversized model of what appeared to be a jack-in-the-box.

Miss Parker rolled her eyes and walked over, snatching the toy off him. She eyed the handle warily for a moment before turning the crank. Six rotations later, the lid flew open and the figure sprung out, bouncing on the spring a few times before flopping over the edge of the box.

She gave it a disdainful look before glancing at Sydney.

'Now's the part where you assign some cryptic meaning to Jarod's latest... creation,' she said, lifting the head of the doll on the spring. Her eyes narrowed. 'That is, if I don't find one first.'

'What is it, Parker?' Sydney asked.

'Raines's lap dog. Anderson,' she murmured, handing the box to the doctor.

There was no mistaking who the head had been fashioned from.

'But why would Jarod leave us a jack-in-the-box with Mr Anderson's head in it?' Broots asked.

'Perhaps Jarod is trying to tell us that Mr Anderson is hiding away, and biding his time... that he is waiting to jump out at us when we least expect it,' Sydney replied ingrainedly.

Parker cast another glance at the box, then caught his gaze.

'The only question is... to do what?'

xxx

Amherst, Massachusetts was the scene of Jarod's latest pretend, and he couldn't help but admit it felt somewhat strange to be back in the state. With every step he took, the city he had been in prior to Scotland reminded him exactly what it was he was supposed to be doing, which, ironically, was precisely the thing he happened to be _not _doing.

The holidays were over, and his initial intentions had been to focus primarily on tracking down his father. However, as it had a tendency to happen, Jarod had wound up thinking with his heart, rather than his head, and had found himself thrown into another unsolved mystery that he had been unable to pull himself away from.

As per usual, his powers of adaptation had allowed him to smoothly make the transition from living like a king back to his age old preference; a dark, cosy lair with minimal furniture and a lot of scattered items adorning the free spaces.

What exactly had possessed him to slip into one of the flashiest hotels in the country and announce himself as the independently wealthy Mr Crown, he did not know. In the past he had restricted his access to Centre assets to when the end result benefitted others; it was uncharacteristic of him to use the money for personal enjoyment. However, he had fancied himself a spending spree and indulged it, figuring that the Centre more than owed it to him.

But now he was back to work, and his newest case was one of the ones that had grabbed him from the inside. It fit the description of his Achilles heel perfectly; a child, stolen from her parents. A young girl, ripped from her bed in the middle of the night.

It was too close to his heart for him to turn away.

'Agent Jarod Nash,' he said, extending his hand to the investigator that had just arrived on the scene.

'Christina Morgan,' she replied, and Jarod had the familiar experience of having his eyes searched as she shook his hand. 'So what have we got here?'

'Not much. It was a clean getaway. No signs of struggle. Just an empty bed, with a flower left on the pillow. The possible mark of a signature killer. I've got someone looking into it.'

He watched her as she nodded and stepped over to the bed, leaning over the white flower and examining it closely.

'A daisy. Often connected to graveyards,' he commented.

'It's also a symbol of purity,' she replied, eyes narrowed. 'Have CSI check it out. I want a report on any foreign substances, and any fingerprints our kidnapper may have left behind. Like you said, this appears to be a signature killer. We may be looking at a repeat offender.'

'Forensics should be here soon,' an officer informed them, leaning around the doorway.

Christina moved towards the window, brushing her fingers over the white gauze curtains, a faraway look in her eyes.

'He uses the daisy as a sign of their innocence,' she murmured. 'To replace the peaceful picture he disturbs when he takes them during their slumber. He doesn't like to interrupt it, but by leaving the flower behind he feels he makes up for what he has destroyed.' She turned, meeting Jarod's eyes. 'Sorry. It's...'

'Complicated. I know,' he finished, smiling.

'You've worked with a profiler before,' she noted.

'I've had experiences,' he agreed, following her as she dipped under the tape barring the door and leaving the bedroom.

'Have you spoken with the girl's parents?'

'Briefly. I thought I'd wait until you arrived,' he replied. 'They're downstairs.'

Understandably, the parents were extremely distressed. Jarod's heart had gone out to them, as he had witnessed too many times the traumas that families went through during such events.

Amanda Pierce had been two weeks away from her sixth birthday when she had been taken. Photo frames portrayed a cute, smiling girl with sandy brown pig tails and crystal blue eyes. It was hard to imagine that the same family in the pictures, happy and laughing, was the same one that they were to meet now. The faces were pale and sunken with rings under the eyes, all signs suggesting lack of sleep and intense anxiety. It was something that Jarod was too used to seeing.

'Mr and Mrs Pierce, I'm Jarod Nash, and I'm with the FBI.'

'Christina Morgan,' Christina added, coming up beside him. 'Mr and Mrs Pierce, we understand this is a trying time for you, but it is necessary that we ask you some questions regarding your daughter's abduction.'

'Of course,' Mr Pierce responded, extending his hand. 'Please, call me Sean. This is my wife, Samantha, and our son, Robbie.'

'Call me Sam,' the woman said, also shaking hands.

'It's nice to meet you,' Jarod smiled. 'And you, too, Robbie.'

The boy, who seemed to be about twelve years old, remained silent, observing the two investigators with the same round, blue eyes that he shared with his sister and, as Jarod had now seen, his mother.

'Please,' Sam said miserably. 'Bring me back my little girl.'

'We'll do everything we can,' Christina assured her. 'For now, we'd really appreciate it if you told us everything you know about what happened.'

'There's not much to tell,' Sean said. 'Sam went upstairs to get Amanda. We thought it was strange that she hadn't come down yet; usually she's the first one awake. But we had just assumed she'd overslept. When Sam went into her room, she was gone.'

'Was there anything else missing from the room at all?' Christina asked.

'No. Everything was perfectly in place. The bed made and everything,' Sam replied.

'Had you noticed anyone taking a special interest in Amanda lately? At the school, or while you were out?' Jarod inquired.

Sam and Sean looked at each other, then shook their heads.

'Not that I've seen,' Sam said.

'Thank you, both of you,' Christina smiled, then stepped away.

'No signs of struggle. An immaculate crime scene. This was a planned, organised kidnapping,' she said to Jarod. 'It's been twenty four hours without any indication of a ransom being wanted. I think we've got ourselves a killer.'

He nodded tightly.

'Then we may be too late. If not, we don't know how much time we have.'

'We need those reports ASAP. The lily has to mean something, and if we've got a signature killer on record, it's a start,' she replied. 'Forensics should have their results in within a couple of hours, but I'm not counting on them finding anything. If the bedroom was clean, then the flower will probably be the same.'

'So we're relying on past cases,' Jarod said grimly.

'There's always the possibility that we're dealing with a copycat, and if they've gotten the information, then so will we.'

'You sound confident that there is information out there,' he commented.

She glanced at him.

'I only hope I'm right,' she said. 'Because if there isn't, we don't have much else to go on.'

xxx

Sydney folded his arms, watching Miss Parker with interest as she sat on the steps to the Sim Lab, gazing off at something only she could see, a distant look on her face as she twisted her mother's platinum ring around her finger.

'Are you sure she's alright, Sid? I mean, she's been so quiet, ever since we got back,' Broots whispered, glancing over at his boss.

'I think Miss Parker's strange behaviour has something to do with the time of year, Broots. Do you know what next week is?'

'Gosh, Sydney, it's that time already? I mean, time's gone so fast, I didn't even know! No wonder she's upset. But usually... isn't she usually alright until, you know, the day?' the tech asked.

'Her mother's supposed death had a great impact on her, but I think you're right. Something else has been bothering her, I only wish she would tell me what,' Sydney sighed. 'I fear that whatever is troubling her may be getting the better of her.'

The doctor was genuinely concerned for his protégée. Her distant manner, while not uncommon, seemed to have shifted from being coolly aloof to faraway and remote. He would even go as far to describe it as lost. Hopelessness. And although she was most definitely a troubled woman, 'lost' and 'hopeless' were generally not words used to describe Miss Parker.

'I just wish there was something we could do. It's just she's done so much for us, Sid. For me. With Debbie, and everything. I hate seeing her this way. I never thought I'd say this, but I want her to snap at me, or call me an idiot, or something. Something that shows she's still the same Miss Parker!'

'Don't worry too much, Broots. I'm sure Miss Parker will tell us when she's ready. Until then, the most we can do is be here if she needs us,' Sydney assured the tech.

Quite suddenly, and without warning, Parker got to her feet, smoothed the wrinkles from her clothes and wandered over.

'Miss Parker, are you... are you okay?' Broots asked.

She looked at him in surprise.

'I'm fine, Broots. But thanks,' she sighed, fleetingly placing her hand on his shoulder before perching herself on the edge of the desk. 'Any leads on boy wonder?'

'Oh, that reminds me,' Broots said. 'This came this morning, Miss Parker. It looks like it's from Jarod.'

She glanced at the box in front of her, observing it with mild interest, wondering what twisted gift she had been sent this time. After what seemed an age of appraisal, she unceremoniously ripped it open and removed its contents to position it on the desk.

Both her and Sydney's gazes narrowed piercingly as they settled on the model Jarod had sent them - a synthetic rat skewered on a turnspit. To Parker, when connected to the jack-in-the-box the pretender had left behind earlier, the message was eerily clear.

'What is he trying to tell us?' Broots asked, eyes slightly wide with nauseous wonder.

'He's trying to tell us,' Parker said, her own aloof blue orbs never leaving the rodent, 'that Anderson is going to cook us up a meal. And the menu reads lab rat. Rotisserie style.'

She turned to meet Sydney's eyes, unable to displace the feeling of discomfort that washed over her when she realised exactly what the pretender was telling them.

'In other words, Jarod knows about the raising of the stakes. Which means this game of cat and mouse just got bigger.'

'But what... how... how could Jarod know?' Broots pressed.

'How does Jarod know half the stuff he knows?' she returned. 'All that matters is that he does know, which can only mean bad news.'

'You look concerned, Parker,' Sydney commented.

'Sydney, if Jarod knows that a threat has been placed on our lives, I'm sure you can figure it out. He's going to do something stupid. That is what he's telling us.'

Amused, Sydney rubbed his chin in an attempt to mask a smile.

'Do you really believe that Jarod would willingly return to the Centre?'

'I'm not saying he's going to waltz in here waving a white flag, Sid. I'm saying that he's got a plan circulating in that oversized and overrated brain of his and the fact that he's letting us know about it makes me wonder what exactly he's up to.'

Something seemed to click, and all of a sudden, things appeared to be back to normal. The abrupt, businesslike no-nonsense manner was back, and her eyes were sharp with the makings of a new endeavour.

'I'm getting damn sick of sitting in the dark lately,' she said, getting to her feet to pace. 'Everything's being kept under wraps and I want to know what's going on. With Lyle in particular. He's up to something.'

'And this surprises you?' Sydney asked.

'Not in the least. But I want to know what. And whether or not it's got something to do with the price that seems to have been put on my head. I'd rather it him than the Centre's new resident assassin.'

'You think that Mr Anderson might not just be after Jarod? That he might be after you, too?' Broots frowned.

'It's a possibility, though I'd prefer it were Lyle. Better the devil you know,' she replied. 'Something about Mr Anderson gives me the creeps.'

'What are you going to do, Parker?' Sydney asked, brows furrowed.

'I'm going to do a little weaseling of my own. It's about time I got baby brother back for riffling through your office.'

'You need to be careful, Miss Parker. You could be digging yourself into a hole,' the doctor warned.

'Which would make me the one throwing the dirt. I know what I'm doing, Sydney, but thanks for your concern.'

She shot Broots an odd look.

'What?' she asked warily.

'Digging a hole... throwing the dirt. It's just... that was a great one, Miss Parker,' the tech rambled, grinning slightly. 'I mean, it would make you the one holding a shovel, too, right?'

'Right, Broots,' she agreed dismissively, placing her hands on his shoulders and steering him towards the door. 'Now, listen - I need you to find out what Lyle's up to. Raines has disappeared again, which leaves him in charge, so I'll be damned if he didn't have anything to do with it. The old wheeze bag may not be my favourite family member but I'd prefer it if he stayed where I can see him.'

Once he had left, she turned to look at Sydney.

'If he's up to something, I have to know about it,' she told him flatly.

'I'm simply concerned that you're going too far behind enemy lines,' was his reply, 'and the affect that all this is having on you. Slow down, Parker. Don't let your desire for the truth cloud your good judgement.'

With a final nod, the doctor left, leaving her to her own thoughts.

xxx

Jarod looked up from his paperwork when Christina pushed open the door with her foot, edging inside while carefully balancing some files, two Styrofoam cups of coffee and a bulging paper bag. He immediately got to his feet and relived her of the coffee cups, placing them on the desk.

'I see you've paid a visit to the local bakery,' he said, noticing the stamp on the bag.

'Yeah, this calls for a celebration,' she said, dropping down in a chair and waving the files at him before sliding them across the desk to him. 'We've hit pay dirt.'

'The Fiore Killings,' he read aloud, scanning over the first page. 'Fiore?'

'Mm-hmm. The Italian word for flower. Nicknamed so because the last investigator was Italian, and he decided that the "Flower Killings" didn't sound right, and I think I see where he was coming from. Flower because... well, read on and I'm sure you'll get the picture.'

'A killer that leaves flowers to indicate different stages of the kidnapping. Interesting, if nothing else,' he sighed, frowning. 'And it sounds like our guy.'

'Uh-huh. But there's more good news. The ETDs are all five days after the children are reported missing. Which means that if this _is_ our guy, there's a good chance Amanda is still alive.'

Christina reached across and took the file from him, flicking through it until she came to the document she was looking for. She held it up to him.

'He was never caught. The crime is organised; immaculate. We're probably looking at someone of high intelligence.'

'When was the last killing?' Jarod asked.

'May, two years ago. Midland, Texas,' she replied.

'Our killer gets around.'

'Tell me about it. Utah, California, Kentucky, Ohio... The last investigator was never able to find a pattern, but he was certain that there was one,' she said, shaking her head slowly as she skimmed over the list of locations. She looked back up at him. 'The MO, however, stays consistent. All eight victims were found strangled, and displayed in the same way. Hair brushed. Nails painted. Whoever he is, this guy sounds pretty messed up. He dresses them up like dolls and puts them on display, like an artist showing off his work,' she said with distaste.

'Where were the bodies found?'

'Various places... always clues pointing to them, but by the time they started making sense, it was too late.'

'Clues?' Jarod echoed.

'Notes. Absolute nonsense that suddenly becomes clear when it's too late to do anything.'

'There was no such note left at the crime scene,' he said.

'No. They all arrived exactly two days later.'

'Any similarities in victims?'

'All were young girls, ranging in age from four to six years old. All with names beginning with the letter 'a'.'

Jarod sighed, picking up the two Styrofoam cups and crossing the room to stand beside her. He offered her one of the cups, and she took it with a small smile.

They were interrupted by a tapping at the door. One of the office clerks was there, carrying a white cardboard tube.

'This just came for you, Agent Nash. There's no return address,' he explained, handing over the package.

'Thank you,' Jarod replied.

He exchanged a glance with Christina before opening the top end of the tube. Inside was a single red rose.

'Stage one. The rose,' she sighed. 'This guy's heavy on symbolism, from the looks of it.'

'What do you get from it?' Jarod asked, extending the flower for her to take.

'It could mean a range of things. Roses are a popular flower. They can be associated with celebration, romance, beauty. In ancient Rome the rose was a sign of secrecy. Conversations carried out "sub rosa", or, "under the rose", were supposed to remain confidential,' she said, carefully sliding her finger along the stem, avoiding the thorns. 'He could just be using it as a sign of celebration of beauty. The fact that the ancient Roman meaning applies to our current state of cluelessness could be pure coincidence.'

Jarod nodded, taking another sip of his coffee. He was about to ask if he could get copies of the 'notes' from the previous killings, when the phone rang.

'Agent Nash,' he said, picking up the receiver.

'I'm assuming you got my rose,' the voice on the other end responded nonchalantly.

Jarod straightened up, catching Christina's gaze.

'Is Amanda alright?' he asked.

'Of course she is, Agent Nash, you should know that,' the other man drawled. 'Five days. Isn't that the deal?'

'I don't recall this ever being about a deal,' Jarod said darkly.

'I gave up my game two years ago because the investigator assigned to my case asked me to. I did as he requested because he stopped doing his job, and it's no fun when you're playing by yourself. Now whether you see it or not, this is very much a game. Everything you need to know is right there in front of you.'

'What makes you think I want to play this game of yours?'

'I know people like you, Agent Nash; I've been messing with their minds for years. Compelled by past events in your tragic lives. Haunted by the ones you never saved. You're all so very much the same. I can only hope that you will be a more challenging adversary.'

The terminating beep that Jarod was so accustomed to hearing sounded in his ear before he could reply. Frustrated, he slammed the receiver down into the cradle.

'What did he say?' Christina asked, ignoring his minor outburst.

'That this is a game. That he's looking forward to a more challenging adversary than his last.'

The kidnapper's words had reminded him of the conversations he'd had with the wayward pretender Alex not too long ago, when he had replaced the agent assigned to tracking down the infamous "Chameleon". The evocative reminder only increased his irritation as his thoughts momentarily turned to the sick game Alex had wanted him to play, and the cryptic taunts concerning his existence that he had been supplied with.

'Hey, calm down. We'll figure this out,' Christina assured him. 'We need to refrain from breaking the phone, in case he calls again.'

'I'll try my best,' Jarod said wryly.

'And I'll go and find someone that can get us a tap,' she replied, putting the papers down on the table and picking up her coffee cup. On her way to the door, she paused at the board, where she had pinned up the pictures of the killer's previous victims. 'How could anyone do such a thing?'

Giving him a small smile, she turned and left. Jarod stepped over to stand where she had been moments before, his eyes wandering over the tragic photographs.

'I don't know,' he said in reply to her question. 'I don't know.'

xxx

Her fingers absently traced the surface of the mahogany desk in the chairman's office as her ice blue eyes followed the movement of her hand.

Both Raines and Lyle were currently classified as on leave until further notice which, ultimately, left her in charge for the duration of their absense.

As she stood in the middle of the office that she had always been told would one day be hers, she carefully kept her distance from the leather covered chair situated behind the desk that she had just tidied.

The chair that, in her eyes, was extremely symbolic.

It had been her birthright, that chair. It had been drilled in to her for as long as she could remember; one day, she was going to take over from Daddy and she was going to make him proud. She'd run the Centre and carry on the Parker chain. Then the whole mess with Lyle had unravelled, and just like that, out of the blue, Mr Parker had a son. And just like that, there was the new heir to family business.

Lyle's acceptance of his place as next in line didn't bother her in the least. Over the years she'd learnt quite enough about the Centre to put anyone off their dinner. The chair that she had once viewed as somewhat of a throne now acted as the much-hated and even, to a degree, feared, epicentre of her pitiful life, and she'd subconsciously placed a taboo on it. She refused to sit in the thing because of an unexplainable sense of foreboding that radiated from it. It was almost as if she were afraid that it was capable of holding some kind of spell over her if she chose to lower herself onto the squishy black cushioning.

'Parker,' she threw into her phone when it rang, her voice practically monotone.

The answer she got was hardly one she wanted to hear, and the absurdity of the caller's request irritated her further. She had no issues with communitcating the fact, and immediately snapped back with a testy,

'And why would I want to do that?'

There was a lengthy pause as she wearily listened to the explanation. Though it hardly clarified things to her satisfaction, she sighed in defeat.

'I'll be there. Just... don't do anything until I get there.' She disconnected the call, then hastily keyed in a number. 'Roy? This is Parker. Get the jet ready.'

Snapping her cell shut, she cast a final, fleeting glance at the chair before turning coolly on her heel and exiting the room.

xxx

'Miss Parker,' Broots hissed, scurrying across the lobby to catch up with the woman that was purposefully making her way towards the large glass doors that marked the entrance to the Centre. She turned around at the sound of his voice, lifting a delicate brow and waiting for the tech to join her.

'What is it, Broots, I'm in a hurry.'

'Where are you going?' he asked, frowning.

'To Atlanta,' she replied.

Glancing around, she took him by the arm and dragged him outside with her. She pulled out a cigarette.

'Lyle's insisting that I go.'

'And you don't know why?'

'Mm,' she responded, giving a small shake of her head as she cupped her hand over her lighter to shield the flame from the wind while she lit her cigarette. 'It has something to do with Jarod. That's all I've been told, other than, _get down here. Now.'_

'Do you think he's caught him?' Broots asked.

She made a noise of amusement, parting her lips slightly to allow smoke to escape. Something wasn't entirely right about Lyle's request, and she planned to find out what.

'No. He wouldn't be involving me if he had. I'd like to bet this is all about his latest screw up.'

'Uh-oh. What's he done now?'

'Rumour has it that a sweeper team had a run-in with the feds,' she explained. 'Lyle was convinced that Jarod was there. Evidently, his calculations were misguided and he only ended up causing trouble. But since Raines has gone walkabout, I'm left to go and clean up his mess.'

'Speaking of him, that's what I came here to tell you. Raines is in Argentina!'

'Argentina?' she repeated, looking skeptical. 'Please tell me he isn't there to work on his tan.'

'Well, I narrowed his location down to a plant outside Parana. Owned by... guess who.'

'The Centre,' she supplied. 'Surpise, surprise. Listen, Broots, I need you to do something for me.'

'Of course, Miss Parker. Anything.'

'I don't know how long I'll be in Georgia. The old wheezebag isn't around so it shouldn't be too much of a problem but I need you to cover for me. Don't tell anyone where I am - not even Sydney. Lyle told me not to tell anybody, and for once in his sorry life I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt.'

'Then... then why are you telling me?' Broots asked, wrinkling his brow in confusion and lowering his voice to a loud whisper.

'Because bald, coffee drinking computer technicians with a knack for buying awful shirts don't count as anybody,' she replied wryly. 'When I get back, I want everything you can dig up on Anderson. Lyle and Raines are otherwise occupied and it's time to go treasure hunting.'

'Uh, Miss Parker...' the tech began, throwing a glance over his shoulder. 'With Mr Lyle and Mr Raines gone, wouldn't that put you in charge? I mean, don't you think it's a little bit suspicious that the minute the authority goes over to you, Lyle's trying to get you away from the Centre?'

'Then good on him,' she said darkly. 'The last thing I want is to become head honcho of this freak show.'

'But Miss Parker, that leaves Mr Anderson!' he hissed.

'And he's not going anywhere near that office because you're going to tell him that I'm working from home,' she informed him, extinguishing her cigarette with the point of her shoe. 'If he's got a problem with it, he can take it up with me when I get back. You can contact me on my cell phone.'

'When do you want me to call you? And why can't I tell anyone? Miss Parker, you know I hate it when you ask me to lie to Sid,' he complained.

'You can tell him I've gone to Georgia chasing a lead on Jarod,' she answered. 'He's already concerned that I'm delving into this and I don't want him worrying his pretty little head anymore than he has to. Besides, I want you to keep focused on finding out what's on Mr Hyde's agenda, and you'd be better off without Sydney hovering over your shoulder.'

'But -'

'No buts, Broots, just do it.'

She glanced around for a moment, then down at her watch. Pulling her sunglasses on, she began heading in the opposite direction.

'I have to go. Call me!' she shouted back to him, pointing for effect. 'And remember - not a word!'

The tech nodded dejectedly, and raised his hand in a half-hearted wave in glum defeat as he watched his boss cross the carpark in long, powerful strides.

'My lips are sealed,' he added, though no one was around to hear him.

But then again, that was usually the case.

xxx

Jarod frowned pensively, then took a few steps back from the board he was focusing on, as if the added distance would magically make everything clearer.

It didn't.

The board was a concise display - a neat display of information that was both professionally presented and easy to read. In the middle was a sheet of paper - _Fiore?_ scribed in the centre - with numerous lengths of red string coming out from it. At the end of each piece of string, something was attached; photos, notes, reports on previous crime scenes and even the rose they had recently received. To the left was a large map, with each of the killer's targeted areas tagged and labelled in vibrant red marker. 

Christina had constructed an excellent chart, but although Jarod admitted it was wonderfully well organised, it wasn't really helping. He wasn't picking up on anything he hadn't already seen, and it was starting to agitate him.

'Anything yet?' she asked, seating herself down in a chair.

She had just returned from an expedition to find what would have had to have been her tenth round of coffee. Jarod had declined after two cups, but it was becoming increasingly evident that Christina was one of those people that spent their lives working around the clock on nothing but donuts and caffeine.

'Nothing. I'm not seeing any patterns, but I'm certain there is one. It's too... calculated. It can't just be some spontaneous act. The only problem we have now is figuring out what compels him to kill. Maybe if we find out why, it will help us find out where.'

'His obsession is maniacal. All the girls were strangled. Hands-on methods usually mean the motives are power-based; he kills to exert power over his victims. The fact that he goes for defenseless, innocent children may have something to do with this, or it could be more. The specific type of girls he targets could relate to an issue from his past. The letter 'a' is significant to him. Flowers are significant to him. The flowers are a big part of the game he plays for a reason. It has something to do with flowers...' She trailed off, her olive green eyes studying the red rose she had pinned up earlier. 'It could just be an element he's chosen to include, because he enjoys the symbolism, but... but I just have a feeling. Gut instinct.'

'And do you trust your instincts?'

'Yes,' she said resolutely, meeting his gaze. 'If only because I don't trust in much else. But that's my job. I wouldn't be here if I didn't know what I was doing.'

Nodding, he turned back to the board, and gestured to the map.

'Do these places mean anything to you?'

'No,' she said, shaking her head, her dark ponytail swinging slightly. 'In fact, I'd say that this is the part that confuses me the most.'

She got to her feet and crossed the room to stand beside him. With a sidewards glance, she pointed at the dot marked _Ashland__, __Kentucky_.

'The large distances between the tagets isn't uncommon. But the fact that it's so haphazard... it's almost as if it's _too_ haphazard. As if the pattern is in the irregularity.'

'I get that too. That there is something behind it, but we just aren't seeing it,' he replied.

Running a hand over his brow, Jarod moved his attention to the original files Christina had dug up on the case. He thumbed through the pages, searching for a name. When he found it, he handed the paper to Christina.

'The agent that worked on this case. I want to talk to him,' he told her.

Her never got to hear her thoughts on the matter because, at that moment, the door swung open, and the same office clerk that had delivered the rose leaned inside.

'We just got off the phone with your base in New York,' he informed them, his expression grim. 'They'd been alerted that you'd taken over the case, and they thought you'd like to know... NYPD reported finding investigator Antonio Garcia, your predecessor, dead in his Albany residence two days ago.'

Christina look at him in disbelief, then over at Jarod.

'Somehow... I don't think you'll be talking to him,' she said slowly, still shocked.

A dark, troubled expression on his face, Jarod gave a heavy sigh.

'Apparently not.'

xxx

Parker observed the terraced entrance of the building that lay before her with minimal interest, still contemplating what on earth had possessed her to come to Georgia just because her psychotic twin had told her to. She was still staring up at it when her phone rang. Without tearing her gaze away, she snapped it open, lifted it to her ear, then clicked it shut again after supplying the unidentified caller with a, _not now - I'm busy._

Her hands subconsciously wandering to her holster sitting at the small of her back, she slowly made her way up the large white steps.

'Lyle?' she called, drawing her gun and edging inside. 'Lyle, it's Parker.'

Hearing voices down the entranceway, she followed the passage out into what seemed to be a makeshift office, where her brother was arguing with a sweeper. There were several others present in the room.

Lyle turned his head to glance sideways at her, but continued his conversation for a good minute longer before joining her.

'Good. You're here.'

'Yeah, I'm here. Do you want to tell me what the hell this is all about?' she asked, eyes narrowing as she gestured around. 'Starting with why you've formed your own little secret service in an empty house in downtown Atlanta.'

'Raines's orders,' he said dismissively, rolling his eyes. 'We're tracking project Parallax.'

'Raines is in Argentina,' she said dangerously.

'I know. And before you ask, no, I don't know why. Just that he's gone to Parana on Triumvirate business.'

'I don't see how this has anything to do with me.'

'It doesn't. I've called you here because I want to make a proposition. You've probably heard about my... minor misjudgment.'

She flashed her feral grin in his direction.

'Oh, I heard about it. And what did the FBI have to say about your little troup of funeral-goers?'

'We managed to clear it up. Fed them some cock and bull story about a Men In Black fanclub conference. They lapped it up,' he said with a wave of his hand. 'The point is, I can't take this lot out anywhere without causing a disturbance.'

'I've been trying to tell you that for years,' she replied, an eyebrow arched in amusement. 'Despite what Raines thinks, most people aren't colourblind. They will notice a group of similarly dressed ogres decked out in black.'

'As I'm sure you already know, I have a general dislike for... computers,' Lyle continued, adjusting his tie. 'Based on what little information we have, tracking this girl is more difficult than trying to find Jarod. We don't know anything about her. What I do know is, I'm not the only one that's been trying to hunt her down.'

'And?'

'And I'm suggesting a temporary truce. The sooner we get her out of the way, the sooner we can zone in on the lab rat.'

Parker huffed in disbelief at him.

'This isn't about her at all. It's about Jarod. You're worried someone else is going to snap up your prize,' she said, catching on.

'Listen, you know as well as I do that the Triumvirate's getting twitchy. Raines is holding this over our heads already, and it won't look good if another runaway science experiment is the one to bring him back. I'm well awate that this has become somewhat of a competition of late, but I'm willing to... set aside our differences and work together on this one.'

'You've lost it,' she informed him.

'Is that a no?' he sighed.

'Is that a no? Dammit, Lyle, it's a why-the-hell-did-you-drag-me-down-here-just-to-ask-me-that! Why couldn't you have just told me all this on the phone?'

'Because I knew you'd do this,' he answered. 'And because you're on to something with her and it's got something to do with Jarod.'

'The only connection that she and Jarod have that I know of is the fact that one's after the other,' she snapped.

'Just visualize it, Parker -' 

'Oh, I'm already visualizing the bullet hole that's going to be appearing between your eyes in a minute, you moron. Broots was right. You just wanted me away from the Centre to waste my time so that nobody catches Jarod while you're stuck here.'

'Where are you going?' he demanded as she pushed her way through the sweepers towards the door.

'Back to Blue Cove. This was a waste of time.'

'Parker, wait!' he called, taking a few steps forward. 'What if there was something else?'

'What do you mean?' she asked icily, stopping, and turning her head only slightly to listen.

He paused, then flexed his jaw.

'We know where she is.'

Xxxxxxxxx

**Apologies, apologies, apologies for the horrendous lateness of this chapter! I've just gotten through my mid-terms, along with a horrible bout of writer's block :(**

**Anyway, I'm going to cut this note short so I can sooner post the chapter – and I'm on another comp, so I'm without access to my reviews… in which case I'll leave the thank yous until next time (Which will be much sooner than this awful long time I've just taken).**

**Collectively, thank you for the reviews, they make me happy :)**

** SezZie**


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